


It Has Only Just Begun

by Kirazalea



Series: Let the Darkness Lead Us Into the Light [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Acceptance, Air Nomad Genocide (Avatar), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Babe's got self worth issues in spades, But only when it comes to zuko's view of himself, Canon Rewrite, Cultural Differences, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s02e20 The Crossroads of Destiny, Families of Choice, Fire Nation Lore (Avatar), Fix-It, Guilt, Jealousy, M/M, Meditation, Near Death Experiences, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Post-Season/Series 02, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Sokka (Avatar), Protective Zuko (Avatar), Season/Series 03, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem Issues, Shame, So more like biased narrator, Unreliable Narrator, With a skewed view of himself and his value, Zuko Joins The Gaang Early (Avatar), Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, Zuko's Scar (Avatar), as they become relevant, this actually starts right after that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 39,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24897712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirazalea/pseuds/Kirazalea
Summary: There is a bitter triumph in crashing when you should be soaringZuko has chosen the path his uncle had been trying so hard to show him; he had someone who believed in him, who maybe loved him; he was travelling with the Avatar and they apparently had a plan to end the war.By all accounts, Zuko should be smiling.But Uncle was gone (captured by Azula, and Zuko didn't think she would kill him, but he didn’t, couldn’t, know for sure).The Avatar was barely breathing (he could still die at any second and there was nothing any of them could do about it).Azula had conquered the last Earth Kingdom stronghold (all those innocent people who were now at her mercy).It seemed like, for every step Zuko took forward, the world sent him back three more.But he was determined to push forward anyways.He needed to make his uncle proud, even if it was the last thing he ever did.aka: zuko joins the gaang at the end of season 2
Relationships: Bato & The Gaang (Avatar), Bato/Hakoda (Avatar), Hakoda & Zuko (Avatar), Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Lu Ten & Zuko, Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Let the Darkness Lead Us Into the Light [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1791838
Comments: 385
Kudos: 1825





	1. Prologue - Hakoda

**Author's Note:**

> okay look, i promised myself years ago that i would never upload a fic if it wasn't completely finished (because i hate when i'm reading something and it's super good, but then it's incomplete and hasn't been updated in three years and all of my hopes and dreams die), but i feel really bad that this is taking me so long and i took a small break to write fics in other fandoms too instead of focusing on this, so if you were waiting for this, you can thank my guilt for giving you guys the first chapter that i've had finished for a while now.

Zuko was scared.

Immediately before passing out, Katara had informed them that her and Sokka’s father, along with the rest of the men from their tribe, were still in Chameleon Bay, so that’s where they were now headed. Sokka had perked up briefly at the news before seeming to fall into himself. He was now sitting up front with his sister, the Avatar sandwiched between them. Sokka had his arm slung behind the boy’s neck and was resting his hand on Katara’s shoulder, making sure she didn’t fall off as she slept. Zuko was still on the sky bison’s _(Appa, its name was Appa)_ back with the earthbending girl, the Earth King, and his weird pet.

They traveled in silence.

The closer they got to the bay, the more Zuko’s false calm was failing him.

“Are you alright?” the young girl next to him asked.

Zuko startled, turning his head to look at her. “What do you mean?”

She scoffed. “I may not be able to tell how fast your heart is beating up here, but I’m blind, not deaf. I’m pretty sure they can hear your breathing up front, and it doesn’t sound too good.”

Zuko had been trying to fight back his panic, taking breaths like he did when he meditated, but apparently it had slipped into something closer to hyperventilating. 

“I’m fine,” Zuko mumbled, glad that she couldn’t see the way his face got a little warmer.

“Sure you are.”

It was odd speaking to her; she didn’t turn toward him at all, just stayed facing forward with pale unmoving eyes.

“So,” she continued, “I guess you’re the ‘angry freak with a ponytail’ then, huh?”

“Wh- what?” he asked, taken completely off guard by the non sequitur. 

The girl shrugged. “That’s what Sokka said when I asked him who you were, back when your sister was chasing us.” Zuko glanced over at Sokka and found that his shoulders were drawn up a little bit closer to his ears. “Before we all met up in that empty town.”

Zuko flinched at the reminder. The fire hitting Uncle’s chest still haunted his dreams sometimes. Had it hit another inch to the right, Zuko didn’t think he would’ve made it.

Not that it mattered now.

A quick death then probably would’ve been a kinder fate than the one Zuko had left him to not even an hour ago.

The earthbender seemed to know where his thoughts were headed.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she said quietly, and Zuko was sure that the group up front couldn’t hear them over the wind. His eyes shifted over to the Earth King, but the man was steadfastly turned away from them, talking softly to his bear. 

“Which part?” Zuko asked bitterly. “The part where he nearly died because I couldn’t give up hunting after the Avatar, even after being declared a traitor to my nation? The part where he wouldn’t have even had to follow me if I hadn’t been _stupid_ enough to leave him behind in the first place? Or the part where he’s now _captured_ by my sister, who’s either dragging him back to my father in chains as we speak or-” he cut himself off, unable to say the words. As if that, somehow, would protect him. Would stop them from being true.

She let him have a moment to calm his breathing once more. “When we got back into the city, your uncle came to us. He begged us to help him find you. And when Katara refused, he said that he knew there was good inside you, even after all you’d done. He went to people that he _knew_ would have all the reason in the world to turn him away on the _chance_ that he could save you. And if, in the end, he had to sacrifice his freedom for you to be safe, and for Aang to have a fighting chance at survival, then I think he made his peace with that long before he followed Aang down into those caves to find you again.”

Zuko knew there were tears building up in his eyes, but if anyone had asked, he would have blamed it on the harsh wind. He closed his eyes against the sting.

“I miss him too,” she whispered. 

Zuko lifted his head, confused. When had she met Uncle?

“He helped me when I needed it most. I… I ran away from them,” she said, jerking her head in Sokka’s direction. “I couldn’t let them in because of how I was raised, because of the way the world has always treated me, and I thought they were just more of the same. Your uncle pointed out to me that there was no shame in letting your loved ones help you, and helping them in return. He’s very kind, and wise.” She finally turned her head toward him. “And I know he loves you more than anything.”

Zuko remembered asking his uncle why he had hesitated enough for Azula to get her shot in, why he’d been distracted. He’d told him that the young Earth Kingdom girl he had met not an hour prior had been there, and he’d been shocked to see that she was a friend of the Avatar’s. 

He’d said she introduced herself as Toph.

A single tear slipped down his cheek. “He cares about you, too.”

Toph’s smile was small and sad, but she leaned a little bit closer to him all the same.

* * *

As they approached the bay, Zuko could faintly make out a small group of ships and what looked to be tents lining the shore. There was no light that Zuko could see. Appa let out a low rumble as they landed, attracting the attention of the few guards that were milling around. Zuko saw one of them run off toward the tent at the end of the row as they landed.

Katara and Sokka were in motion immediately, calling out for the men on the ground to help them with Aang. Zuko slipped off Appa’s back, and Toph jumped down beside him. Before he could move forward, however, she hesitantly put a hand on his arm. Startled, he looked down at her.

He could see the slight darkening of her face. “It’s the sand,” she said, frowning. “It makes everything… fuzzy.”

So apparently she used her connection to the earth to see. Somehow. 

Okay.

He laid his hand over hers and they moved quickly after Sokka’s group, into one of the tents. There were several people gathered around him, but Katara was quick to order them back as she fell to her knees next to Aang. She carefully moved him on his side and drew water out of her pouch. There was the slightest glow from the water, helping to illuminate the tent. Zuko was met with the worried faces of older Water Tribe men. After a moment, the water fell away and the open flap was the only source of light once more.

“He needs space,” Katara barked to the men behind her, and they jerked back, quickly filing out with several backwards glances. Zuko pressed himself as far into the corner as he could, shielding his face in the shadows while they moved past him. For a moment, the five of them were motionless in the near darkness, but soon enough, two men ducked back into the tent, carrying a large barrel between them. 

“We got as much fresh water as we could,” one of them stated quickly. He laid his hand heavily on the other’s shoulder. “And Bato learned a thing or two about caring for burns from the sisters during his stay at the abbey. He offered to help in any way he can.” 

Katara seemed to relax a little at the presence of the two men, some of the tension bleeding from her shoulders, but she still nodded firmly and waved Bato toward her. The man with the longer hair moved forward immediately. Zuko could see the rough discolored skin that ran all the way up his arm and as he passed by. 

Bato kneeled down next to her before turning slightly toward the other man again, though his eyes never left Aang’s prone form.

“We’ll have to risk it. We need enough light to see what we’re doing.”

The other man’s eyes tightened and he sighed quietly, but he nodded. Sokka’s head shot up and he met Zuko’s eyes pleadingly. They both knew Aang needed help _now_ and that they didn’t have time to waste on anything, not even the few minutes it would take to set a fire and move Aang closer. It would also be better to limit any light they needed, otherwise they risked drawing attention to the beach.

Zuko squared his shoulders and moved forward, hesitating as he came around to Katara’s other side, but forcing himself to settle into a meditative pose as he lifted his hand in front of him. He took a breath in and on the exhale, a small flame grew in his hand until it was just enough to show the full extent of the damage done.

Two sharp breaths sounded out next to him as Bato recoiled. The other man immediately drew a large dagger out of its sheath and stepped forward.

“Dad, stop!” Sokka cried, moving between them with his hands up.

The man with the knife froze immediately, cold eyes locked on Zuko. Katara glanced up in worry before turning her focus back onto Aang. She grabbed the water and once again put her hands over the exit wound.

“Sokka,” the man (his father, this was Sokka’s _father-)_ growled, “he’s a _firebender.”_

“I know, Dad, I know.” Sokka’s voice was shaking slightly. Zuko had to hold himself back from jumping in between the two of them. “He’s with us, I _promise.”_

“Hakoda,” Bato called quietly, eyes still watching the flame in his palm warily from his position on the floor; the flickering light showcased the way his skin was raised and hardened, an angry reddish-brown in color. Zuko knew exactly what it would feel like if he reached out to touch it.

Hakoda glared at him for another moment in the tense silence before stepping back. He kept his weapon in hand as the other man moved forward once more. One of Bato’s hands was clenched into a tight fist. Zuko didn’t blame him. He hadn't been able to stand fire either, not even his own, for a long few months after his banishment.

“I need you to be ready with a wet cloth,” Katara instructed quietly, and Bato swiftly moved into action. As soon as her water fell away, he laid a hand on Aang’s arm and began pressing the material carefully to the area around the wound, cleaning up the irritated skin. Katara’s healing had done a lot to relieve the worst of the injury, but Aang had still been hit by _lightning_ and Zuko knew he would always have a scar there.

It seemed that that was something they’d have in common now. 

He’d let out a small moan when Katara’s water had hit his wound, but at the touch of the cloth, Aang jerked away with a strangled sound. Toph moved forward to clumsily grab hold of him. Once she knew where her hands were, she held on tight, keeping him restrained. Sokka had grabbed onto his legs, making sure he wouldn’t kick out and jostle himself too much.

Hakoda was still keeping a steady eye on him.

Zuko sat as still as he could and breathed. Aang needed light, so Zuko would give him light.

It was the least he could do.

* * *

By the time they’d gotten Aang stabilized enough to loosely wrap the wound, it was deep into the night. Hakoda hadn’t let up for a second of it, narrowing his eyes any time Zuko so much as twitched. He’d begun to feel lethargy and grief tugging at his limbs, pulling at his control, but it wasn’t the first time Zuko had pushed himself like this and he wasn’t going to break now. Though he really wished the older man would at least look away once or twice. His gaze hadn’t moved, even when he’d called another man in and spoken to him softly. 

As everything started to settle, Zuko shifted back a little, trying to regain feeling in his legs after so long in one position. Before Hakoda could shoot forward again, another man stuck his head inside the tent and Zuko froze.

“Chief Hakoda, the tent is ready,” he said softly. Hakoda nodded and the man disappeared again. Bato leaned back with a sigh, rubbing his hand over his eyes briefly as Katara leaned against his side. She looked exhausted.

_Of course he’s the chief,_ Zuko thought a little bitterly as Hakoda motioned Sokka toward him. _He’s probably heard that I attacked his village, no wonder he was ready to skewer me. How many other teenaged firebenders with scars across their face could there be who also happened to be traveling around in the Earth Kingdom?_ The man’s title did make sense, though. Katara and Sokka were both incredibly strong willed people, and Zuko could see their father in them, just like he could see pieces of both of them in him.

For example, he now knew where they got their glares.

Sokka stood up silently, not meeting his father’s eyes. He reached out to Toph as she too rose, letting her take his arm. When Zuko didn’t move, Sokka finally looked at him, jerking his head toward the door.

Zuko took one last breath, carefully extinguishing the flame he’d fed for hours. As its light disappeared, he thought he saw a flash of relief cross Bato’s face. 

Zuko very slowly stood up, making sure to telegraph his movements. He waited until Sokka and Toph had started for the door before he moved to Aang’s other side _(away from Katara, away from Bato)_ and followed.

The Chief held the entrance open for them and Zuko tensed as he passed under his arm and into the open. It was much darker now than it had been when they’d entered. Only a few guards were making the rounds and all of them slowed their pace whenever they passed by. Most shot happy smiles at Sokka as they continued on their way.

They walked to a nearby tent in silence. 

“You can sleep here,” Hakoda said gently, holding the flap open again. “Your sister and Bato will stay with Aang and watch over him during the night.” Zuko made to follow them inside when a hand fell down on his shoulder.

“You’ll be sleeping near my tent,” Hakoda said firmly. It took everything Zuko had not to shake or flinch at the sound of his voice.

He tried to remember what Sokka had said in the cave, that his father had never hurt him, never treated him as something less; he hadn’t sounded like he feared Hakoda. But the way he’d cringed away from him in the healing tent told a different story. And besides, just because the man wouldn’t hurt his own son, that didn’t mean that that kindness extended to Zuko. 

Sokka’s head popped out before Zuko could say anything. “Are you coming?” he asked tiredly.

“No, Sokka,” his father replied. Sokka’s brow furrowed in confusion. 

“Why not?” His eyes shifted toward Zuko’s shoulder. “Where are you taking him?” he asked quietly.

“He’ll stay with the other men.”

A spark of fear shot through Zuko. Hakoda was bad enough, but he was still just one man. No, instead the chief planned to throw him to the rest of his men and leave him.

The men whose village he’d attacked. Zuko had threatened their families, their children; he didn’t want to think about what they had in mind for him once he was alone.

“Why can’t he stay here?” Sokka questioned, breaking through Zuko’s panic. “Dad, he _protected_ us, I don’t even think we’d _be_ here if he hadn’t helped. He turned against his sister to come with us, he turned down a chance to go _home.”_

“That doesn’t mean this couldn’t all be a ploy,” Hakoda argued. “Who’s to say that that wasn’t the plan all along? He comes here, gains our trust, and betrays us as soon as he’s learned all he can.”

Sokka seemed to hesitate for a moment and Zuko felt his heart drop, but as quick as it came, the indecisiveness vanished from his face. “No,” he said, no room in his voice for argument. “He wouldn’t _do_ that, not now. I trust him, Dad.”

From the look on his face, Hakoda most certainly did _not_ share that sentiment, but Sokka pressed on before he could say anything. “And if he _does_ try anything, Toph will be able to tell before he gets the chance. The safest place for him to be is right here.”

Hakoda was still glaring lightly at Zuko, the icy blue eyes he shared with his son seeming to stare into his very core, but he only tightened his hand on Zuko’s shoulder before releasing him. “Alright,” he said softly. “I trust you Sokka. If this is what you think is best…” He trailed off, and Zuko could tell he still wasn’t pleased with the situation, but Sokka had already brightened just a little bit. He exited the tent and looked up at his father through suspiciously wet eyes.

“I really missed you, Dad,” he whispered.

Immediately, the man’s face softened into something incredibly tender as he pulled his son to him. “Oh, Sokka,” he whispered back, pressing his lips into his son’s temple. Sokka closed his eyes tightly, burying his face in his father’s chest as the arms cradling his body tightened, and something in Zuko ached as he slipped into the tent, giving the two a moment alone.

* * *

Zuko woke up not long after the sun had risen. He sighed quietly, aware of his still-sleeping companions, and wished that he could join them. Late nights always took a toll on him because no matter how hard he tried, how badly he wanted to, he had never been able to sleep in. He’d asked Uncle about it once, because he knew that Azula sometimes slept in later than him (not often, especially not after their father had been crowned, but at least she apparently had the option), and he’d reassured Zuko that both he and Lu Ten had been the same way. His uncle had only ever been able to sleep later in recent years, but Zuko had never asked what caused the shift.

He had a pretty good idea of why anyways.

He could count the hours of sleep he’d managed to grab with one hand, but that would have to be enough. At least no one was expecting him to be awake for a few hours still, so he had some time to himself before having to face the world.

He curled into a ball again, finally letting himself process the immense grief that had been slowly suffocating him all night. He pressed his hands against his eyes, trying to block out the sight of his uncle’s desperation, the sound of him yelling for Zuko to take the others and leave. 

He knew how important it was that the Avatar survived; he knew how close they’d already come to losing him.

He still couldn’t fight back the feeling that he should have stayed. Sokka would’ve been fine, Toph would still have found him and they would’ve gotten to safety. The only vaguely useful thing Zuko had done this entire time was shave a little time off by providing a fire, and even that did almost as much harm as it had good. He should’ve fought with Uncle. Maybe they could have made it out with both of them there (having more people, more _resources,_ gave more options. Zuko knew this _very_ well), but even if they’d both been captured, at least they would’ve been together; Uncle wouldn’t have had to face his fate completely alone.

Toph’s words yesterday had helped somewhat, but nothing could fully erase the guilt he now carried deep within his heart. Uncle was the one person who had never turned his back on Zuko, not even when he’d been at his worst. And Zuko had repaid that love and care by abandoning him.

It felt like only minutes had passed as he drowned in his misery, and maybe Zuko had managed to doze in and out a little, helping to blur time together, but soon enough, Sokka was shifting next to him, his face scrunched up against the light as he fought to cling to sleep. Zuko watched him as he lost the battle, eventually yawning and raising his arms above his head to stretch. His eyes blinked open, looking just as tired as Zuko felt. Sokka stared at him for a second, blinking lazily, before a small smile turned the corners of his mouth up.

“Hey,” he said quietly.

“Hey,” he replied, just as quiet. Neither of them wanted to deal with Toph’s wrath should they wake her up before she was ready.

Sokka hesitantly opened his arms, eyes meeting Zuko’s again shyly, and not even Agni himself could’ve stopped Zuko from taking the comfort he offered in that moment.

They stayed like that, both drinking in the feeling of having someone in their arms. Zuko rested his forehead against Sokka’s collar, Sokka’s chin resting against the top of his head. 

“I’m sorry,” Zuko mumbled into his skin. “You shouldn’t have to be comforting me right now.”

Sokka’s hold tightened minutely, as if he was afraid Zuko would pull away. Zuko knew he wasn’t that strong.

“You have just as much of a right to comfort as I do right now,” Sokka insisted. “Besides, you act like this isn’t helping me just as much as it is you.”

Zuko sighed. “Sokka…” He didn’t particularly want to have this conversation, but he knew he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t ask, and it would take his mind off of Uncle, even for just a moment. “I saw the way you were with your father in the other tent. The way you could barely look at him. Are you... ?”

Sokka cringed back a little. “No!” he whispered hoarsely. “No, it’s not- it’s nothing like that, I promise.” The hold tightened once more. “He’s… he’s _nothing_ like your father, I just-” Sokka stopped himself with a sigh, bringing one hand up to cover his eyes.

“I just don’t want to disappoint him. He won’t hurt me, he won’t love me any less, but…” He felt Sokka swallow. “I just want him to be proud of me. And I’ve done nothing but fail the people closest to me. Zuko, I was _there,_ I should’ve protected Aang and instead, here we are.”

Zuko tightened his own grip around Sokka. “He’s the Avatar,” he said dryly. “Normally, he’s not someone most people worry about protecting. You and I both know he can do that himself.”

Sokka sighed again. “I know. He’s got more power in his left pinkie than I have in my whole body, but… he’s still just a kid. And he hasn’t had the chance to just _be_ a kid in a long time.”

Zuko stayed silent, knowing, with another pang of guilt, that he was part of the reason for that. He let their breathing fill the small silence in the tent.

“I wanted to show my dad that I had grown while he was gone. I wanted to show him that I’m ready, that he could trust me as a warrior. Instead, we lost everything.”

“Not everything,” Zuko argued. “And he _does_ trust you.”

Sokka snorted softly, but didn’t fight back against the words. “Speaking of,” Zuko continued, “I didn’t thank you for last night.”

“What about it?”

Zuko pushed his face a little bit closer. “Trusting me. Not letting him take me.”

“Well,” Sokka said, and Zuko could hear the smile in his voice, “I might have had ulterior motives for that.”

They stayed pressed together like that until a voice from outside the tent called Sokka’s name and Toph’s breathing stuttered, followed by a groan.

Sokka got up to open the flap while Zuko sat up, leaving his hands in plain view.

Zuko saw the other man from last night standing outside. Bato. The man’s gaze flicked toward Zuko for a second, locking eyes with him, before he returned his focus to Sokka. “Your father wants to see you, if you’re ready?”

“Yeah, just give us a minute,” Sokka replied. Toph groaned again, but stretched out and pushed herself up. She latched onto Zuko’s arm as they both stood up and they followed Sokka out of the tent. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have a spare cord?” Sokka asked.

Bato smiled slightly, already holding one out. “I had a feeling you might be wanting one.”

Sokka’s smile was brighter than any Zuko could remember seeing. “You’re the best!”

Bato’s smile turned fond as Sokka began pulling his hair up. When he’d finished, turning his smile toward Bato, the man placed his arm around Sokka and tugged him close as they walked. 

The damage to his other arm was much worse in the light of day. 

Zuko could see the twisted patterns of scorched flesh that the fire had licked up his side. The man wore no covering for it, other than his short sleeved shirt. He was very careful with the arm, but it didn’t seem like it caused him too much pain. Zuko would guess that the nerve endings had been burned off. He resisted the urge to raise his hand to his own eye.

He resolved to limit his firebending around Bato as much as he could.

Several men shouted out to Sokka as they walked, and Sokka grinned at them. They were stopped a couple times as a few of the men approached them. One held his hand above Sokka’s head as if measuring him and Sokka stood up straighter, causing them all to laugh happily.

When they reached the tent at the end of the line, Bato squeezed Sokka gently before letting go. He lifted the flap for them and they entered, Bato coming in behind them.

Chief Hakoda was standing over a stack of scrolls, closing the one he currently held in his hands before turning to face them.

A smile lifted his features. “Sokka,” he said warmly, opening his arms. Sokka rushed forward, sinking into the embrace again. After a moment they parted, and Hakoda held him at arm's length. He looked his son up and down and Zuko couldn’t help the slight tense in his body. Toph shifted in response but said nothing.

“Look at you,” Hakoda whispered. “You’ve grown so much.” He turned to Bato. “You didn’t tell me _that,”_ he complained playfully.

The corner of Bato’s mouth ticked up. “I did, you just weren’t listening after I told you about his rock dodging.”

Hakoda seemed to deflate a little. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there,” he said, turning back to Sokka with a sadness in his eyes.

Sokka dropped his head a little. “It’s okay, Dad, I understand.”

Hakoda’s hands tightened on Sokka’s shoulders. “It’s not okay,” he insisted. “Your sister… she pointed out how much I’ve missed while she was here yesterday. I know the two of you were strong after I left, I know you’ve grown in more ways than I can even imagine… that you understand _why_ I had to leave you.” There was a deep sorrow etched into the lines of Hakoda’s face. “But I will never forgive myself for everything I missed, all of the hurt I caused both of you.”

Sokka was staring up at his father with tears growing in his eyes.

“I’ll tell you the same thing I told her,” Hakoda continued softly. “The two of you are _everything_ to me. I thought about you every single day, and every night, all I wanted was to have you back in my arms. It was like I was being stabbed in the heart, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.”

Sokka’s tears finally won out, racing down his face as he threw himself forward. His body shook with silent sobs as Hakoda held him tight. Bato came up behind Sokka, laying a hand on both of their shoulders as Sokka fisted his hand into his father’s shirt.

“I missed you so much,” Sokka said, voice shaking. Hakoda laid his hand on Sokka’s head, just underneath his wolftail.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

Zuko was so transfixed by the scene in front of him that he didn’t realize he was shaking until Toph’s hands tightened against his arm, causing him to look at her. She looked concerned.

Zuko took a deep breath as quietly as he could, forcing himself to calm down, to push past the age old ache his father had left in his heart, the newer but no less painful one caused by the loss of his uncle. His hand darted up to brush the tears away from his own eyes before they could fall.

When they finally parted, Hakoda smiled down at Sokka again. “When this is all over, I’m going to take you ice dodging with _real_ ice. Not because you have anything to prove, but because I couldn’t be prouder of you and I want to make those memories with you.”

Sokka’s face drew up in confusion. “But… I’ve done nothing but fail. There’s no help coming from the Earth Kingdom, Aang nearly _died-”_

“There’s _nothing_ you could’ve done to stop that,” his father said, cutting in before Sokka could get too worked up.

“But I was _right there,_ Dad! _I’m_ the one that convinced the Earth King to let Azula in, I _saw_ her shoot Aang down-”

_“Sokka,”_ Hakoda interrupted, gentle but firm. “It wasn’t your _fault._ You think I’ve never made a mistake that cost someone their life, their freedom? You think I’ve never watched something terrible happen knowing that, had I made a different decision, things would have ended differently?”

Bato’s hand found its way to Hakoda’s shoulder again, and the Chief seemed to lean into it, to draw strength from it.

“It _wasn’t_ your fault,” he repeated. “No one can make the right decision all the time; it’s something we all have to learn to live with. I had always hoped that you wouldn’t have to learn that lesson until you were much older, but I’m telling it to you now. There will always be mistakes that stay with you; you just have to learn how to move past them, to learn from them so that they don’t happen again. No, we can’t count on the Earth Kingdom anymore, but Aang is alive. I stayed with your sister last night and she’s confident he’ll make it. And as long as he’s alive, there _is_ hope. You’ve gone up against impossible odds time and time again, and most of those times, you came out on top. One failure, no matter how devastating, is _not_ enough to wipe out every victory you’ve ever had. It won’t be easy, but we _can_ come back from this, and we _will."_

Sokka was staring steadfastly into his father’s face, relaxing more and more with every word until he looked calmer and more determined than Zuko had seen in the entire time they’d known each other.

“I… do have one idea,” Sokka admitted quietly, “but I don’t know how good of a plan it is.”

Hakoda smiled encouragingly, gesturing toward the center of the room where a large map was set up.

That smile dropped when he noticed Zuko move toward the center, and Toph jerked slightly as he froze in place, but Bato moved directly between them, blocking him from Hakoda’s sight. Zuko forced himself forward again and took a seat carefully, Bato to his left, Hakoda on Bato’s other side, Toph to his right and Sokka directly in front of them all.

Zuko couldn’t help but notice that Bato had chosen to sit with his unburned side facing him. Zuko’s own scar likewise faced the man, putting him in Zuko’s blindspot unless he tilted his head towards him.

Sokka cleared his throat nervously and visibly steeled himself, but before he could actually speak, Hakoda beat him to it.

“Actually, would you like to grab breakfast before we begin? I know _I_ think better on a full stomach.”

Sokka perked up at the mention of food, but Bato huffed almost angrily.

“Hakoda,” he snapped, turning to face him.

“Yes?” the man replied, voice cool.

There was silence as the two of them stared at each other. Sokka glanced over at Zuko, suddenly unsure, but Zuko could only give him his own glance of confusion.

“I know that you _know_ your son has grown wise, but you haven’t _seen_ it, and so you don’t trust him as you should,” Bato said shortly, his voice holding an edge to it.

“You of all people know that I would trust him with my life,” Hakoda said coldly, and Zuko could just barely see the way his eyes narrowed.

“But not with his own?” Bato demanded.

Hakoda’s jaw tightened, his eyes darted toward Zuko, and suddenly he understood.

Zuko stood up, tense, and bowed as respectfully as he could. “I apologize for the intrusion,” he said. “I’ll take my leave.”

“Stay,” Bato replied, leaving no room for argument, and Zuko froze in the middle of straightening out of his bow.

“If the boy wants to leave, let him,” Hakoda shot back, voice even.

“He doesn’t _want to leave,_ he’s just smart enough to recognize the fact that you don’t want him here.”

Sokka sounded like he’d had the breath knocked out of him, but Zuko couldn’t look over to him. His eyes were locked on Hakoda. 

“And why should I?” Hakoda asked. His voice was like steel and Zuko just wanted to leave before that steel was turned on him.

“Because your _son_ wants him here,” Bato argued, voice just as cold. “Or do you not _trust_ him?”

This must have been what his tutors had meant when they said that Water Tribe men were made of ice, just as hard and cold and _dangerous_ as the environment they lived in. After meeting Sokka, Zuko had begun to accept the fact that maybe a century at war had tinted their history’s view of the other nation, but it was starting to look like Zuko might just owe them an apology.

Hakoda’s eyes had narrowed even further, but he turned his gaze toward Sokka. Zuko tensed up even further, his heart beating wildly in his chest as his breathing picked up.

“How long have you known him?” Hakoda asked quietly.

Sokka looked conflicted. “A few months?”

“And how many of those months did he spend _hunting_ you?”

Sokka blinked. “Katara told you,” he said, sounding a little numb.

“She mentioned the fact that you spent a good few months running away from a Fire Nation prince that was determined to capture the Avatar,” he confirmed, anger dancing clearly under the surface of his tone. “She also mentioned that he’d stolen your _mother’s necklace_ and used it to track you down; that he’d succeeded in kidnapping Aang the first time you met, _after_ threatening your grandmother and destroying part of the village.”

Zuko felt shame and fear take root in him in equal measure. The old woman he’d grabbed, the one that Katara had clutched to her after he’d let her go; that was their _grandmother._ And the necklace, her _mother’s_ necklace.

Zuko hadn’t seen anyone he thought could have been their mother in that village, just their grandmother. 

They had been travelling the world alone, without any adult accompanying them.

And there was no woman in the tent with them now, celebrating the return of her son.

Just Hakoda, who was nearly shaking with rage at the mere presence of a firebender (one who had consistently hurt his children, hunted them across the world).

Sokka’s eyes were wide and pain filled.

And Zuko knew.

He dropped to his knees, unable to stand any longer. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“You’re _sorry?”_ Hakoda repeated cruelly. 

“Dad-” Sokka tried, his voice breaking.

“How long has he been on our side?” he demanded.

Zuko could hear Sokka opening his mouth again and again, but no words came out.

“Hakoda-” Bato tried.

_“How long?”_ the Chief barked.

“Since… since last night,” Sokka whispered. Zuko could barely hear him.

“A few hours versus an entire _lifetime,”_ Hakoda spat. “I trust you Sokka, I _do,_ but I’m sorry, I _will not_ trust _him.”_

Hakoda stood abruptly, towering over Zuko, and Zuko flinched, yelling out in fear, in _shame,_ as the man’s hand came up.

_“Hakoda!”_

Zuko was shaking, his head buried in his arms _(please, not again, please he was sorry, he was_ **_sorry-_ ** _)_ as he huddled on the ground. The sudden stillness made his whimper painfully obvious when a hand touched his back gently. He flinched again, even as it drew back immediately. 

“Zuko,” a soft, _scared,_ voice called.

He shook harder.

_“Zuko,”_ another, smaller voice called. Its high pitch didn’t sound like it belonged to a man, but rather to a child.

He lifted his head just enough to look.

Toph stared back at him, her unseeing eyes wide and frightened as her small hand reached out toward his side.

Sokka was kneeling next to her, his face pale and afraid. He was shaking almost as badly as Zuko.

Bato had stood up and was now staring furiously at his chief with a hand pressed hard against the man’s chest, holding him back.

Hakoda was staring down at him, wide eyed and almost as pale as his son.

* * *

“Why don’t you three head back to your tent?” Bato suggested, his voice quiet and calm, even as his eyes pierced straight through Hakoda. “Sokka, you can ask one of the men to bring you food.”

Sokka stared blankly at Bato before he swallowed and nodded. It took a moment for him to be able to coax the firebender into standing, and both of the other children stuck closely to his sides as they exited the tent.

There was silence between them after they’d left, Bato’s hand still pressed to his chest as they listened to the footsteps grow fainter until they were indistinguishable from the sound of the men going about their day. Hakoda couldn’t move his eyes from the spot where Zuko had cowered from him.

Only then did Bato draw his hand back.

“What were you _thinking?”_ Bato demanded, eyes dark and stormy. 

It snapped Hakoda out of his trance. “I-” 

Bato waited for him to speak, to justify himself, but Hakoda couldn’t find the words.

“Yes,” Bato said instead, “he’s a _firebender._ I know that quite well. And yet, _I_ was able to move past that.” He crossed his arms carefully, drawing Hakoda’s gaze right to his arm. “Why can’t you?”

“You- you _know_ that’s not his only sin, Bato,” Hakoda challenged back desperately. “You _know_ what else he’s done.”

“Yes,” he agreed again. “I was there when your daughter cried in your arms, telling you all about him. And I think that’s the problem. You look at him and you see her fear, her fatigue. He’s not a boy to you, he’s a monster.”

“He’s the prince of the _Fire Nation,”_ Hakoda stressed. “Is it really so improbable that someone raised that way from birth, who’s already done so much to hurt innocents, would be willing to fake a change of heart just to stab us in the back the moment we turn it?” While he couldn’t shake off the sheer _fear_ in the boy’s body, it didn’t erase who he was and what he could do. No matter how badly Hakoda felt for him.

“It’s perfectly reasonable. Except for the fact that your son has already told you multiple times that it’s not. Why can’t you take him for his word if you trust him like you claim to?”

Hakoda felt his gaze harden. “Don’t you _dare_ imply that I don’t see him for the warrior he’s grown into.”

Bato didn’t even flinch. “I wouldn’t have to if it weren’t true. He’s your _son,_ Hakoda-”

“You’re right!” Hakoda shouted. “He _is_ my son, _not_ yours. And you can’t possibly know how much it scares me to see him with that boy, knowing that any moment could be his last if he decides to betray us!”

Hakoda panted, watching as Bato closed himself off from him. Hakoda’s eyes widened as he realized what he’d just said. 

“Bato, I-”

“Have I not been in his life just as long as you?” he whispered softly. “Was I not the one to care for him, for _both_ of them, after Kya was taken? While you crashed and burned in your grief?”

Hakoda flinched, the hole in his heart flaring up as he thought about what she would say if she could see him now.

“You think seeing him next to someone who could burn him in an instant doesn’t make me fear for him?” Bato demanded, and Hakoda could see the anger finally break through in his eyes.

Hakoda wanted to speak up, to explain that that’s exactly _why_ he was so afraid now, that hearing Bato scream as the fire took hold of him still haunted him. That leaving him behind, not sure if he would ever see him again, but knowing that he had to keep moving, keep up the facade of being alright for his men, was the hardest thing he’d had to do since leaving his children behind. But he couldn’t get the words out.

Bato softened just slightly. “I _know_ you trust him, Koda, and I know that your fear of losing him outweighs that trust sometimes. But that doesn’t excuse what you just did.”

He lowered his head in shame, unable to bear the weight of Bato’s gaze anymore. “I didn’t mean to-” He cut himself off. He knew it didn’t matter what he’d intended; it didn’t change what had happened. “Why?” he forced out instead. For the life of him, Hakoda couldn’t figure out _why_ the firebender had reacted so strongly. 

“You saw his eye, just like I did,” Bato replied simply. “I got my marks fighting in a _war._ Did you ever stop to think about where a child no older than your son got _his?”_

Hakoda _had_ noticed the scar that contorted the prince’s face into a nearly permanent scowl. But the boy was a firebender, surely it must’ve been an accident of some kind? He seemed to have incredible control over his flame; perhaps that was why. But he hadn’t reacted like that until Hakoda had lifted his hand to accentuate his point. 

He’d borne Hakoda’s anger without so much as a sound, but the sight of a man standing over him and raising his hand toward him had sent Zuko spiraling into a panic as he shielded his face.

Hakoda’s eyes widened and he knew that _Bato_ knew the conclusion he’d reached. 

Bato had always been far better at reading others and getting straight to the heart of the matter.

Bato stepped forward, his hand raising up to gently cup over Hakoda’s eye. His pinkie just barely brushed against his ear. If his hand had been a little bigger, or Hakoda’s head a little smaller, it would have fit perfectly with what had been literally staring Hakoda in the face this entire time.

Hakoda felt sick.

* * *

Bato had left not long after. Hakoda knew he needed to make up for his words to the other man, especially after he showed up again with Sokka in tow.

His son stared up at him hesitantly, the joy and trust that had been so clear on his face just a few minutes ago now gone.

Hakoda had looked away in shame as he explained his actions. He made sure that Sokka knew it didn’t excuse anything, that he wasn’t _trying_ to excuse anything, but that he just wanted Sokka to understand. And miraculously, he did.

“But Zuko doesn’t,” he’d said.

And Hakoda knew that that was another wound he needed to patch.

After apologizing, making sure that Sokka knew exactly how much he loved him, how much he trusted him, how _proud_ he was, Sokka left with a promise to bring Zuko back as soon as he was ready.

Another flicker of shame shot through him.

Hakoda had returned to the reports, figuring that he would be waiting on the Fire Nation boy for a while, but was surprised when he and Sokka walked in not even half an hour later.

Sokka had his hand on Zuko’s shoulder, and part of Hakoda chafed at the closeness, but he viciously shoved that part down.

“Before I say anything else,” Hakoda started quietly, making his voice as non-threatening as he possibly could, “I want you to know that I _will not_ hurt you. I apologize for any stress and fear I’ve caused you, and you have my word that I will _never_ raise a hand against you.”

The way Zuko’s eye widened (just the one; the eye under his scar was still squinted nearly closed, giving him a permanent glare, and Hakoda couldn’t stand the sight of it, felt sick at the thought of what must have happened to make it like that-) in shock made Hakoda feel even worse because he knew he deserved it.

Hakoda stood in silence, letting Zuko make the first move. Sokka stared into Zuko’s face determinedly, seeming to search for something, and Zuko finally looked back, giving a tiny nod. Sokka left them, and Hakoda could see Bato standing outside the tent, knew that he would be ready to jump in if Hakoda messed up again.

He knew he deserved that too.

Hakoda carefully gestured to the center of the room, telegraphing his every movement.

“Would you like to sit down?” he asked. The arrangement would have Zuko on the opposite side of the map from him, consequently putting Zuko out of his reach.

Zuko walked over and sat down, still tense.

The young boy (and _spirits,_ he really _was_ just a boy) stared back at him, his eyes not quite meeting Hakoda’s. 

Hakoda took a steadying breath and began. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you before, and I certainly never intended to hurt you. I… I didn’t trust you, I’ll admit it, and it’s been pointed out to me that you probably don’t deserve that, that I should exercise more faith in my son, and I would like to apologize for the way I’ve treated you since you arrived here.”

Zuko was still staring at him, his eye widening a little again at Hakoda’s words, but he didn’t say anything, so Hakoda continued.

“Sokka told me about what happened in Ba Sing Se.” _That_ had his shoulders raising a little, the lightest pink touching his cheeks and red brightening the tip of his untouched ear. Hakoda paused, raising an eyebrow. Maybe there was more to the story than Sokka had told him, but he didn’t feel as if he had the right to press for answers right at this moment, so he started up again. “He told me about how you had changed, how you fought with them against your sister and got them to safety. He told me that you had to leave your uncle behind to protect Aang.”

Zuko flinched, closing his eyes as he turned away slightly. Hakoda’s heart ached for him.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” he said quietly, knowing from experience that the words would do nothing for him but needing to say them anyways.

“I’m sorry for yours,” Zuko replied, voice rough and small.

Hakoda could feel his brows draw together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Zuko flinched again, looking like he regretted the words.

“I’m not upset,” he assured him, “just… confused?”

Zuko’s eyes moved fast, darting to his face before dropping back to his chest. “Your- your wife,” he said softly.

Hakoda felt like he was going to choke on the breath he’d just drawn in and he coughed slightly. “It’s- How-” he tried, before taking a moment to pause. “How do you…?”

Zuko’s gaze fell to the floor. “You said it was her mother’s necklace,” he said. _“She_ said it was her mother’s necklace, and there was no one in the village, no one here, and I- I assumed…”

Hakoda hadn’t given him enough credit it seemed. He caught on quickly, though he supposed there was also a history between him and his children that Hakoda didn’t fully know that was informing his assumptions.

His hand drifted to touch the band on his arm, the one he’d fashioned from one of Kya’s dresses after she’d… 

He sighed. “Their mother was taken a few years ago, when they were still young; a Fire Nation raid,” Hakoda explained. “I’d never felt as much fear as I did when Katara came running up to me, screaming that there was a _man_ in our house, that Kya was-” He forced his eyes closed as tears built within them. “I _ran,_ but by the time I got there… the only thing there was her necklace. I left Katara there, I ran toward the ship, but it was already moving away. She was _gone.”_

He recalled the way he’d run around, begging the spirits that he was wrong, that she was still there somewhere; how he’d panicked when he couldn’t find Sokka either, feared that he’d lost them _both;_ how he’d rushed back to their house to find Katara crying as she clutched at the necklace _his_ mother had given him for their engagement; the way he’d fallen to the ground next to her when Bato ran in with Sokka, safe and sound in his arms and not yet aware of what they’d lost.

“I’m so sorry,” Zuko whispered again, and Hakoda looked up at him, though his vision was a little blurry.

Zuko had tears of his own in his eyes and they were streaming down his face. Hakoda forced his lips into a smile. “It wasn’t your fault,” he insisted. “I’m sorry that I ever treated you like it was.”

Zuko buried his face in his hands, trying to hide the tears, to wipe them away as he took in a shuddering breath. 

“I didn’t tell you that to make you feel guilty, Zuko,” Hakoda said softly. “I told you because I wanted you to understand what happened earlier. When Katara showed up in our camp yesterday, I had never been happier. She was standing right in front of me, safe and so _grown,_ and I thought I was dreaming. But she held herself back from me. When I finally found out why, she threw herself into my arms and cried. She told me about how _scared_ she’d been for so long, wondering whether or not she would ever see me again, and how there had been times when she was traveling with Aang that all she’d wanted was for me to be there for her. She’d wanted me to sweep in and make everything alright, to protect them all and make the hurt _finally_ go away. And I felt so ashamed that I had managed to fail her and Sokka so completely. I had left so that I could protect them, and instead, all I did was abandon and hurt them in a way no one else could. 

“So when she told me about how she’d lost the necklace, how you had used it to track them, all I could think about was how close I’d come to losing _her,_ just like I lost her mother. And I connected the rage I felt for the men that took Kya from us with you because of that. But I was _wrong,”_ he insisted. 

Zuko looked up at him, vulnerability clear on his face, even as he attempted to hide behind a facade of passiveness.

Hakoda remembered what Sokka had told him earlier, about how all Zuko had wanted was to live a life in peace with his uncle. He hadn’t asked for this, but he was here, and that was what mattered now.

“Sokka also told me that the Firelord banished you,” Hakoda said carefully, “that you were considered a traitor.”

He expected the flinch this time, the shame that colored Zuko’s face. “I- yes,” he said, sounding defeated.

“Why?” he asked as gently as he could.

Zuko took his time, but Hakoda was content to wait, to let him gather his thoughts.

“I… spoke out when I shouldn’t have,” he admitted.

When he didn’t continue, Hakoda prompted him smoothly. “What did you speak out about?”

Zuko’s eyes were now fixed on the map between them, his brow furrowed. “There was a general. He wanted to- to _sacrifice_ a battalion of men, of new recruits. There was a trap, and he knew it, and he _still_ wanted to send them in as a distraction so that another group could attack from the back and pin them down. He knew they would all die, and all he did was _laugh.”_

He shared Zuko’s anger. Hakoda mourned the loss of every one of his men, shared in the sorrow of the Earth Kingdom soldiers they’d fought beside on occasion when one of their own was lost. War was a tragedy, a burden that took too many lives needlessly, and yet, this general treated it like his men were nothing more than tiles in a game of pai sho: expendable and easily replaced.

“I called him out for it,” Zuko continued, “asked him how he could even _think_ about betraying our people like that…” He seemed to deflate a little. “And I was told that I had shown complete disrespect by speaking out of turn. My father told me I had to fight in an Agni Kai, and I _thought_ I would be dueling the general. I accepted and I was _glad_ that I’d have the chance to go against him. But… he wasn’t the one I’d disrespected.”

Hakoda was entranced by the story, needing to hear more and wanting to stop Zuko in equal measure.

“I turned around on the dias, ready to fight… but it was my father standing across from me.” Zuko closed his eyes once more, and Hakoda could read the pain in his face. He felt like he couldn’t breathe as the scattered pieces he’d been collecting started to fall together, forming a horrifying picture. Zuko turned his face away until Hakoda could no longer see the scar that marred his face. 

“I wouldn’t fight him.” His voice was almost too soft for Hakoda to hear, but he hung off every word. “He said I’d dishonored him, dishonored _myself._ He said I needed to be taught a lesson, and-” Zuko sucked in a breath and swallowed. “And held me down as he-” His voice broke as a tear streaked down his cheek.

Hakoda felt like he couldn’t breathe. The way Zuko had crumpled to his knees in the face of Hakoda’s anger played again in his mind’s eye. The way he’d immediately covered his face the second he caught sight of Hakoda’s hand. He tried not to imagine a smaller body doing the same thing, falling down and likely begging an uncaring father for mercy that wouldn’t be shown. _Held him down,_ he’d said, and that made it _so much worse._ Bato’s screams once again rang in his ears, but now they were higher, the sounds of a child crying out in pain as the smell of burning flesh filled the air.

_“Zuko.”_ His voice broke before he could say anything else.

When Zuko looked to him, eyes wide and filled with tears and so damn _young,_ Hakoda couldn’t stop from throwing himself across the map to wrap his arms around him, uncaring of the way pieces of wood tumbled off in his wake. Zuko flinched and tensed under his weight and Hakoda cursed himself for his stupidity as he immediately pulled back.

“I’m sorry,” he begged, “I’m _so_ sorry, I didn’t mean to, to...”

Zuko was staring at him like he’d never seen him before. “It’s… it’s okay,” he said. “You just… caught me off guard,” he finished quietly, a blush staining his cheeks. 

Hakoda wondered if the poor kid had ever even been hugged before. He couldn’t say it would surprise him if the answer was no.

“I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you,” Hakoda apologized again, once he’d pushed back his sorrow. “You shouldn’t have had to share your pain with me for me to treat you with the dignity and respect you deserve, instead of suspicion and anger. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me, but if not, I understand.” 

Zuko looked shocked again, like he couldn’t believe the words Hakoda was speaking, and Hakoda couldn’t wait for the invasion; if he had his way, he’d be burning the Firelord down _himself._

“I- I forgive you,” Zuko said numbly, like he expected Hakoda to take it all back the second he fell for it.

Hakoda smiled at him, bowing his head respectfully. “Thank you.”

Zuko tipped his head in return, and when they straightened up, Hakoda shifted off of the map, sitting down next to Zuko and giving him space once more.

“You’re a good man,” Zuko said, finally looking at him.

Hakoda smiled bitterly, his many mistakes fresh on his mind. “I try to be,” he replied.

“Sokka looks up to you. He wants… he wants you to be proud of him. And I can tell that you love him a lot. It would mean a lot to him to hear you say that, to _show_ it. He’s incredibly skilled, and amazing at _so_ many things, but he doesn’t have confidence in that yet.” Zuko looked like he couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth, but he didn’t take them back and he didn’t back down.

Hakoda had already planned to make it up to his son for the way he’d acted, but this doubled his resolve. “I’ll be sure to make my actions match the way I feel then,” he promised. “My son is very lucky to have someone like you watching his back,” he added, hoping to boost Zuko’s confidence as well.

Zuko’s cheek bloomed pink again as he looked away, and Hakoda held back a smile. There was _definitely_ more going on between them than Sokka had told him, but he figured if they wanted to, they would tell him. 

A dull thud from the doorway drew their attention. Hakoda saw his son slumped over on the ground, half outside the tent still. He was rubbing his head and glaring at someone out of sight, and when Hakoda cleared his throat amusedly, Sokka froze and turned to them sheepishly.

“Eavesdropping?” he demanded goodnaturedly, raising his eyebrow to complete the effect.

“I prefer to call it information gathering?” Sokka answered.

Hakoda chuckled at the distinctly question-like quality of his answer while Bato lifted the flap open. Sokka clambered to his feet and glared at Toph, who stood behind him grinning.

Hakoda met Bato’s eyes and could see his own anger at what he’d heard reflected back at him. He had no doubt he would be hearing _exactly_ what Bato thought of the Firelord’s parenting skills in the near future, but for now, he focused on the small pleased smile that adorned his face. He still had some grovelling to do to make up for the fatherhood comment from earlier (he’d been feeling insecure and unsure and he _knew_ he shouldn’t have said it, but he’d just wanted the man to _stop)_ , but easing Zuko’s worries had gone a long way to smooth things over between them. 

He’d always had a bleeding heart when it came to kids.

* * *

Hakoda’s pride in his son swelled as he listened to his updated invasion plan. The loss of the Earth Kingdom forces was a harsh blow, but Sokka had apparently been doing quite a bit of creative thinking. As he listed off potential allies in the form of people he’d met and befriended while traveling the world, Hakoda was amazing by the way he’d considered each of their individual strengths and weaved them together to make something that might just work.

As they exited the tent, Hakoda threw his arm around Sokka’s shoulders and hugged him tight. 

“You amaze me, you know that?” he said quietly.

Sokka’s eyes widened and a shy smile lit up his face. “Really?”

Hakoda smiled back. “Of course. Who else would think to invite swamp dwelling waterbenders along to invade the Fire Nation?”

Sokka’s shoulders dropped and he rolled his eyes, smile still on his face as Hakoda chuckled. 

“I mean it, though,” he continued. “You’ve grown into an intelligent and capable warrior, and I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

Sokka smiled up at him, joy written in every inch of his being. 

“Now, how about we get something to eat?”

Bato’s groan at Sokka’s loud cheering reduced Hakoda to warm laughter once more. He saw Zuko’s tiny smile at Sokka’s antics out of the corner of his eye and the warm feeling in his chest grew.

* * *

He was awoken by a hushed, “Chief,” spoken directly into his ear. His hand immediately grabbed for the dagger he kept underneath his sleeping mat even as his brain connected the voice to one of the men that had been assigned to guard duty for that night.

“What’s happening?” he asked blearily, already shaking his head to wake himself up. This was two nights in a row now that his sleep had been interrupted. He hoped the circumstances weren’t quite as dire this time, but the hope was slim.

“We caught someone trying to raid the ships,” he said seriously. “I think they’ve been caught now, but they sent me to get you.”

“Understood,” Hakoda replied, and the man nodded, exiting the tent. Bato was already pulling on his boots next to him as Hakoda got up to do the same. They all slept in their clothing for this exact reason, but he still hated how often he had to be thankful for that fact.

They joined the large group outside a minute later, only to see his children and their friends already there.

Katara turned at the sound of their footsteps, a tired but happy smile on her face. As they approached, she swept her arm out to indicate the two people that were currently tied up and sitting on the ground.

“Dad, this is Pipsqueak and The Duke.”

Hakoda blinked, wondering if this was a dream. One of them was a _very_ large man and the other was a child whose entire body looked to be the same size as his companion’s head. 

After an awkward pause he hadn’t meant to give, Hakoda replied. “Good to meet you?”

“They want to help us,” Sokka continued enthusiastically.

Hakoda blinked. “Then why are they tied up?”

“Because we tried to steal from your ship,” the smaller one piped up from his position on the ground. “We didn’t know you were friends with Sokka and Katara, but they told us about everything that happened since the last time we met and we want to help you with your invasion!”

Hakoda was still attempting to make sense of the situation when the other man spoke up in a slow deep voice. “We heard that the Fire Nation killed the Avatar, but I’m glad he’s alright.”

So _that_ was the story they were spinning then. “How far has news about the Avatar spread?” Hakoda asked.

“We heard when we passed through a town outside Ba Sing Se this morning,” the one Katara had introduced as The Duke said sadly. 

“That’s… not good,” Hakoda replied grimly.

“Maybe it is,” Sokka muttered, looking like he was thinking through something.

“What do you mean?” Katara asked.

Sokka looked up again. “If people think Aang is dead, then they won’t be expecting him to show up when we invade the Fire Nation.”

“A secret weapon,” Hakoda concluded. “They can’t prepare for someone they believe to be dead.”

“Exactly!”

Toph hummed. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but that might just work.”

Sokka turned to her indignantly, and Hakoda motioned for his men to untie the two newcomers who were apparently friends with his children.

“Why were you stealing from us?” Bato asked as they stood up.

“Because we were really hungry,” The Duke replied easily. “We saw your ships from up on the hill and decided to try and sneak something out before the other ships came in.”

Hakoda frowned sharply, unease stirring in his chest. “What other ships?” 

“The Fire Nation ships that were showing up on the horizon. There were a lot of them making their way toward the city.”

Hakoda swore under his breath. “Tanook, wake everyone up, we’re packing out _now.”_

The man nodded and shot off toward the tents. 

“Dad, wait,” Sokka said, stepping forward. “I don’t think we’ll be able to outrun them.”. 

Zuko, who had thus far stood silently, voiced his agreement. “They can travel at least two knots faster than your boats are capable of without any wind to aid you; they’ll catch you before you can make it out of the bay.”

Hakoda frowned. He didn’t like the idea of waiting for a fight to come to them, backing them into a corner, especially with Aang wounded like he was. If anyone saw him and reported back where he was, they would never have a moment of peace, and Aang’s survival would no longer be a secret.

“Maybe…” Sokka started, before trailing off unsure.

“What do you have in mind?” Hakoda asked.

“Well… what if we capture a ship? Then we could board that one and hide in plain sight while Aang is healing.”

Hakoda almost dismissed the idea outright, not wanting to abandon their fleet. They were Water Tribe, they sailed _with_ the ocean, not _against_ it like the steel nightmares the Fire Nation favored. 

But Sokka had a point.

Hakoda couldn’t just think as a Water Tribe chieftain anymore. He had bigger concerns than his own wishes.

“Do you have any ideas on how we’d do that?” he asked.

Sokka bit his lip, before perking up once more. “What about the Stink ‘n’ Sink?” 

Hakoda had shown them to Sokka after lunch at his son’s insistence; Hakoda had been surprised and thrilled to hear that Sokka had come up with a similar weapon during a visit to one of the air temples. Bato, on the other hand, had _not_ been thrilled with how amusing Sokka found the name.

He could hear Bato’s sigh from behind him and his lips twitched upward, despite the circumstances.

“We need the ship intact, those would be too destructive. And they draw more attention than we want,” Hakoda pointed out.

“What’s a _Stink ‘n’ Sink?”_ Toph asked.

“It tangles seaweed in the propeller of a ship and stinks the whole place up so that they abandon it,” Hakoda replied distractedly. “But to do that, it has to explode first.”

“That’s it!” Sokka exclaimed. “We don’t use the bombs themselves, but use the same concept! Katara can freeze the water around the propellers so that they stop working and the ship falls behind, and once the rest of the fleet is far enough away, we take the ship. Then she can unfreeze it when we’re done so that there’s no permanent damage!”

Hakoda turned to look at his daughter and saw the determination on her face. He didn’t doubt that she could do it.

“Alright,” he agreed. “I’ll gather some of the men while the rest of you work on hiding the fleet.” He received nods from everyone as they all scrambled to prepare. When Hakoda turned back, he saw that Zuko was hovering nearby.

“I spent three years on one of those ships,” he said quietly. He looked up and met Hakoda’s eyes confidently. “I can talk you through the layout and blind spots.”

Hakoda smiled at him and knew that Bato was doing the same.

“Let’s get to work then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, i AM going to shove my love for bato/hakoda into literally every fic i write, mind your business. although i’ll admit at this point that it feels like every time i see a minor character in this show with minimum screen time and maybe ten fics to their ao3 tag, i’m suddenly the embodiment “it’s free real estate”


	2. The Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i tried to make it more than just a transcript of the episode, and there will be more differences as we get further into the season, but at the same time i’m trying to balance out what would definitely be changed by zuko’s presence with the decisions and conversations that would still probably take place in nearly the same way. i’m not super satisfied with this chapter to be honest, but it is what it is. i definitely struggle more when i don’t have much control over how the scene will play out and when the things i’m writing have to stay close to canon but still add in something new and worth paying attention for, but that will be less of an issue the further in we get, so oh well. i hope you guys liked this!

After a few weeks at sea aboard a Fire Nation vessel, Zuko felt more at home than he had in a long time. He still half expected to turn around and see Uncle walking up with a tray of tea in hand.

Instead of the familiar sight, he always felt the now familiar sting of loss when he remembered why Uncle would _not_ be showing up.

Zuko stood on the deck, staring out at the sky as the smell of the water and the rocking of the boat soothed him. Katara, Toph, and Sokka were further down to his right, Bato and Hakoda standing with each other on the other side of the ship, and a few of the night guards milling around the head of the ship. 

The wind rustled through his hair and he heard Toph and Katara laughing. He looked over to see Sokka with his helmet on, arms spread wide.

They’d both found joy in mocking the helmet every time Sokka wore it, but Zuko knew Sokka enjoyed hearing their laughter, so he kept putting it on and pretending to be offended every time they made fun of it.

Zuko just shook his head and left him to it.

After the two girls had quieted down again, Zuko heard footsteps approaching him. He turned and saw Sokka, helmet still on, walking toward him.

“I’m not soothing your bruised ego,” Zuko said flatly, lips quirking up when he received a snort in response.

“Some boyfriend you are,” Sokka retorted, leaning against the railing next to him. His voice was comically muffled and echoing inside the helmet. 

“Oh well,” he replied, smiling. “How’s Aang doing?”

Katara had come up from below deck not too long ago after finishing her nightly healing session.

“Good,” Sokka answered. Zuko could hear the joy in his voice. “She thinks he might wake up within the next few days.”

That had been a cause of great concern for a long time. After the first week of unconsciousness, Katara had nearly had a breakdown, thinking she wasn’t doing enough and that Aang might never wake up again. Hakoda had calmed her down, reminding her that healing took time, and Zuko had taken her aside later, told her how he’d slept through nearly the entire day for the first two days after he’d received his burn. He’d started forcing himself through the motions of looking for the Avatar on the third day and had only stopped after he passed out from the exertion. After that, it had been another week before he was able to get out of bed for any substantial amount of time.

She’d been better at controlling her worry after that, but it had been several weeks since Ba Sing Se, and Zuko prayed that Aang would wake up soon. Momo had been missing him badly and Zuko hated seeing his forlorn little face when he found him perched all alone. 

Zuko hadn’t seen much of him before they’d boarded the ship; he’d been too preoccupied with his own thought to take much note of Momo’s presence while they rode Appa to Chameleon Bay, and the animal had stayed with Appa for the most part after they’d landed. Once they had captured the ship and moved Aang onto it, however, Momo was almost always either curled up with Aang or hovering near Appa. He would occasionally demand attention from some of the crew, especially Katara, but otherwise, Zuko saw just as little of him as before.

Speaking of the little lemur, Zuko heard a small chittering from behind him and turned to see Hakoda crouching down to pet him. He could faintly hear the man laugh at Momo’s purr when a thud and metallic clanging filled the air.

Zuko whipped around to see Aang, facedown on the ground and staring confused at his pet. Momo yelled excitedly, darting up onto Aang’s shoulders as he pulled himself upright. Pipsqueak and The Duke ran up the stairs behind him, moving in front so that Aang could see them.

“Twinkle Toes, that’s gotta be you!” Toph exclaimed as she and Katara rushed toward him. 

Zuko and Sokka ran with them, coming to a stop next to Bato and Toph as Katara said, “Aang, you’re awake!” 

“Are you sure?” Aang groaned as he stared at them, dazed. “I feel like I’m dreaming.”

Katara threw herself at him, pulling him into a hug. “You’re not dreaming. You’re finally awake.” The relief was clear in her voice.

Sokka walked up toward them, leaving Zuko with Bato. “Aang,” he called, “good to see you back with the living, buddy.” His words were joking, but he too pulled the young monk into as tight a hug as he dared.

“Sokka?” he asked dubiously, and to be honest, Zuko couldn’t blame him. He’d been on the ship the whole time and the full combat outfit _still_ threw him off on occasion. Aang then groaned, swaying on his feet as Sokka began pulling the helmet off.

“Uh-oh,” Toph started. “Somebody catch him, he’s gonna-!”

The thud of him hitting the deck again cut her off as they all rushed forward.

“Do… that,” she finished with a wince.

Katara pulled him into her lap while they all huddled around. Appa strolled toward them, rumbling deep in his throat at the sight of his companion.

Bato leaned down and checked his bandages as Appa sat down and made himself comfortable. Momo perched atop the bison’s head.

“Nothing’s bleeding,” Bato muttered calmly as he looked Aang over.

Zuko felt some of his fear fade away. Bato, as it had turned out, was a very adept healer, and if he wasn’t worried, Zuko figured it couldn’t be too bad.

“Why don’t we give him a little space?” Hakoda suggested while Katara settled in. “I think we may have overwhelmed him.”

Bato looked like he agreed and Pipsqueak and The Duke nodded, heading back below deck. Zuko briefly placed a hand on Sokka’s shoulder and followed Hakoda and Bato a little further away from the remaining group.

Bato raised his eyebrow at him when they stopped.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to be the first sight he sees,” Zuko sighed. Hakoda clapped a hand to his shoulder understandingly.

He’d grown close to both of the men in the past few weeks, so he didn’t mind standing with them while they waited for Aang to regain consciousness. Hakoda, he’d found, had a very easy charm about him and Bato was the perfect level of exhausted by the other’s antics to make them an amusing duo to be around. 

He could definitely see where Sokka had gotten his sense of humor from.

And where Katara had gained her dry exasperation toward said humor.

Bato had been the first of the Water Tribe men to come around to Zuko’s presence. Zuko had thought that he would want nothing to do with him, but Bato had taken to him almost immediately. He still flinched occasionally when Zuko used his firebending without warning, but he’d made it clear that that was a reaction to the fire and had nothing to do with Zuko himself. Zuko understood exactly what he meant; it didn’t matter how long it had been, Zuko still recoiled sometimes when a hand came near his face too fast.

Bato had also helped him settle in with the rest of the men from their village and smoothed over any hard feelings that arose when news of what he’d done to their village had spread.

Zuko had already deeply appreciated the man, but he’d been doubly glad that Bato liked him when he’d found out just how close he and Sokka’s father were.

He honestly couldn’t say whether or not Sokka and Katara had noticed yet.

He also wasn’t going to be the one to break the news to them if they hadn’t.

After making small talk for a little while to pass the time, Zuko even sharing a humorous story about the time he’d nearly run his ship into an iceberg the first time he’d entered colder waters with the two men who could ice dodge in their sleep, Sokka and Toph walked over and joined them.

“He’s awake,” Sokka said before turning around to look back toward his sister and friend again.

“I have _hair?”_ he heard Aang exclaim. Zuko turned just in time to see him clutch at his head, feeling the thick brown covering that weeks of unconsciousness had left him with. It still looked wrong to Zuko, but he supposed that was the whole point. Hakoda smiled goodnaturedly and walked over toward them. The four of them watched as he introduced himself to Aang, who happily took the hand offered to him. As he let his arms drop, however, they suddenly shot to his side underneath the blanket he’d been covered with. Bato took an aborted step forward as Katara gathered Aang into her arms. Hakoda had a hand on Aang’s back helping him to stand, but he allowed the duo to move away from him without following. They disappeared up the stairs soon after and Hakoda walked back over to them, placing a hand on his son’s back.

“I think we should all follow their lead and get some sleep,” he suggested. “I'm sure Katara will let us know if anything changes, but Aang still needs his rest.”

Toph yawned widely at the words and shrugged. “Sounds good to me,” she mumbled, already moving toward the stairs that lead to the room the four of them had been sharing.

Hakoda smiled softly at Sokka and Zuko before removing his hand and following Bato toward the front of the ship. 

“Well,” Zuko said dryly, “that was the quickest ‘few days’ I’ve ever had.”

Sokka looked at him a little confused for a moment before their conversation sprang into his mind again. He looked like he wanted to frown, but his reluctant smile won out and he huffed out a short laugh.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “no kidding.”

Zuko gave him a small smile and turned to follow after Toph. There had been more smiles and laughter in the last half hour than the entire first week combined. It felt nice.

* * *

The next morning dawned quietly, Zuko waking up as the sky began to lighten into soft pinks and purples outside of their small window. Zuko let out a long breath, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he carefully shifted away from the body next to his.

Sokka’s arm pulled back from where it had been slung across Zuko’s side during the night, and Sokka turned to his other side, now facing away from Zuko. He smiled softly when Sokka’s breathing evened out again and pushed himself up from the bed. He quietly pulled on his clothes, leaving the armor off for now, but scoping it up to take it with him.

Toph stirred a little as he opened the door to their room, but Katara slept through it as he exited.

He’d quickly gotten back into the habit of meditating with the sunrise and sunset once aboard a ship again. He came out onto the deck, only the few men on night duty noticing his approach in the quiet hour. He nodded to them and they ducked their heads in response, a few giving him tired smiles.

He walked to the front of the ship, turning his back to the wall as he sunk into pose. He didn’t have any candles to light, but that hadn’t been an option in the Earth Kingdom either, so Zuko was used to it. He took a steady breath in, smelling the ocean salt on the cool breeze, and let it out.

_In, two, three._

_Out, two, three._

There was no fire in front of him to help him visualize, but he could feel the way his inner fire responded. It tensed up within him as he inhaled, preparing to be let loose, and expanded brightly on his exhale, warming him even in the chill of the early morning around him.

 _Power in firebending comes from the breath,_ his Uncle’s voice echoed as Zuko exhaled, _not the muscles._ His body was completely relaxed, perfectly poised and still.

 _The breath becomes energy in the body._ Zuko inhaled, feeling it feed the raging fire that longed to be let out.

 _The energy extends past your limbs and becomes fire._ Steam escaped his nose on the exhale.

 _Remember, once you separate the energy, you do not command it._ He held his inner fire in an ironclad grip, trying to relax but afraid of what would happen if he were to let go.

 _You are simply its humble guide._ Uncle had always been far more humble and in tune with himself than Zuko thought he could ever be. 

He was a far better guide, too, even if Zuko hadn’t appreciated that enough while he’d had it.

 _Breathe first._

_I’m_ **_trying,_ ** _Uncle._

His last exhale turned into a sigh, and Zuko opened his eyes. The chaotic swell within him quieted a bit as he lost his grip on Uncle’s advice. The sun had just finished rising over the mountain tops as a fluffy white cloud passed in front of it. The world dimmed for a moment while it continued its journey across the sky, letting Agni’s light shine down on them once more as the wind moved it along.

The wind was picking up, and the clouds swept through the sky faster, but the breeze was warmer now in the daylight and Zuko sat quietly while it rustled his clothing and hair.

He stared down the ship to where Hakoda was talking with the man in charge of the night patrols. He clapped the tired man on the back and gave him a smile before the man walked off toward the sleeping quarters. Several more people were on the deck now, including Bato, who was watching him as he leaned against the ship’s rail.

Zuko pushed himself up as Bato walked over toward him. It had become a ritual for him to help Zuko tie up his armor after Zuko had finished meditating, since none of the other kids were never up early enough to do so.

Bato lifted up Zuko’s breastplate, lowering it carefully over Zuko’s head and Zuko stuck his arms through the holes as it settled on his shoulders. Zuko stepped into the thigh guard, pulling it up his legs to tie it in place as Bato did the same for his top armor. 

The calm and familiar actions soothed his mind after thoughts of his Uncle left him bruised. He had a feeling that Bato had long ago noticed how Zuko was right after mediating and that was why he’d offered his assistance in the first place.

They both knew he could get his armor on himself. It was just… nice, to have the help.

The first set of armor he’d ever worn was from Uncle, and he’d helped Zuko put it on at first, just like Bato did now. 

He knew his uncle had been seeing a different boy the first few mornings, until Zuko’s scar would appear through the collar once more and he would be harshly reminded of exactly who he was helping.

“Breakfast?” Bato asked, taking a step back once he’d finished. Zuko let his arms drop back down to his sides and he nodded.

As they headed toward the kitchens, Bato spoke up again. “Hakoda went to wake the others.”

Zuko huffed out a laugh. “They’re going to love that,” he said dryly. None of them enjoyed waking up, especially Sokka.

“Why do you think you think I sent him?” Bato replied, his eyebrow raised as he looked to Zuko out of the corner of his eye.

Zuko hid his smile by looking down, but he was pretty sure Bato saw it anyways.

They gathered seven bowls from the kitchen and left, thanking Toklo, who was stuck on cooking duty for the week, on the way out.

They took up a post near one of the crates that had been brought out as seating and waited for the others to show up. Steam rose from the bowls and was carried off by the air.

“Did you sleep well?” Zuko asked.

Bato’s hand came up to hover over his burned arm, hidden underneath the layers of clothing he wore.

“Well enough,” he replied. Zuko knew the skin still occasionally gave Bato trouble when he rolled onto it in the night, and Zuko could recall a few times he’d done the same thing in the first few months. There weren’t a whole lot of pain receptors left in the skin surrounding his eye or in Bato’s arm, but accidentally pressing the skin into a pillow or a bed was an odd sensation. It caused an almost phantom pain that would quickly be overtaken by a bone deep ache that both did and didn’t hurt, making it so much worse.

“There was far less sprawling last night,” Bato continued amusedly. Zuko knew the man wasn’t talking about his own movement and had to bite back a smile.

Occasionally flailing around in his sleep was apparently another trait Sokka shared with his father.

“Ooo,” Sokka’s voice called, “smells great!”

Zuko’s small smile won out as he turned to see Sokka, a rolled up paper clutched in his hands, darting ahead of the procession that included the rest of his family, Toph, and Aang. 

Momo was clinging to Aang’s shoulder and similarly perked up after catching the smell of food on the wind. Aang had a robe thrown over his tattered clothing and he looked a little unsure when his gaze turned on Zuko.

Zuko dropped his head and made to walk away, but Bato’s arm looped around him before he could take a step, holding him in place. Zuko looked up into his face, and Bato squeezed him gently before letting go.

Zuko grabbed a bowl and sat on the floor in front of the crate.

Toph took a set next to him, Aang and Katara on her other side as Sokka lowered himself onto the crate. Hakoda and Bato stood on either side of him, their bowls held close to their faces. It seemed Sokka had been elected to be the one to inform Aang of the plan he’d created.

Zuko smiled into his bowl as he took his first bite.

They all ate in silence for a moment until Aang lowered his bowl and quietly asked, “What… what happened?”

Sokka swallowed before beginning. “After what happened at Ba Sing Se, we had to get you to safety. We flew back to Chameleon Bay where we found my father and the other Water Tribe men. The Earth King decided he wanted to travel the world in disguise, so he set off alone. Well,” he corrected himself, “not _completely_ alone.”

Zuko remembered the sight of the Earth King riding off atop his bear at the first port they had stopped at. He’d learned from Sokka that the man had been kept in the dark about the world his entire life, and Zuko understood the need to get out and see it for himself. He’d learned a lot from his tutors, but none of it compared to what he’d learned travelling with Uncle and seeing it for himself.

There were a lot of lessons you couldn’t learn unless you experienced them yourself.

“Soon,” Sokka continued, setting his bowl down and grabbing the map that was lying next to him on the crate, “the bay was overrun by Fire Nation ships. Rather than fight them all, we captured a single ship and made it our disguise. Since then we've been traveling west.” He’d lifted up the map, showing off their route by trailing his finger along the path. “We crossed through the Serpent's Pass a few days ago. We've seen a few Fire Nation ships, but none have bothered us.

“So what now?” Aang asked, looking up at Sokka with wide eyes.

“We’ve been working on a modified version of the invasion plan,” Hakoda explained. Sokka smiled up at his father as everyone else’s heads turned toward him as well. “We won't be able to mount a massive invasion without the Earth King's armies, but the solar eclipse will still leave the Fire Nation vulnerable.”

“So we're planning a smaller invasion,” Sokka said, taking over smoothly once more. Zuko felt a shot of pride lance through him at how far Sokka had come in the past weeks. Zuko had feared over how skittish and reluctant to be with his dad Sokka had been that first night, but he’d completely bloomed under the care and reassurance of his father. Now, he was visibly confident in his plan and in the respect his father had for him.

“Just a ragtag team of our friends and allies from around the Earth Kingdom,” he continued, gesturing to his right. “We already ran into Pipsqueak and The Duke.”

Zuko glanced over to see The Duke perched on Pipsqueak's shoulder, much like Momo had been on Aang’s. Pipsqueak’s helmet was off as they ate.

“Good to see you again, Aang!” he rumbled happily through the food he was chewing.

“And the best part is, the eclipse isn't even our biggest advantage!” Sokka’s voice was smug and excited as he leaned in dramatically toward Aang. “We have a secret,” he stage whispered. He looked around like he was checking for eavesdroppers. _“You.”_

“Me?” Aang repeated, sounding completely confused. Zuko’s stomach dropped at the tone even as Sokka brightened.

“Yep! The whole world thinks you're dead. Isn't that great?” he cheered, standing up and shoving his arms in the air excitedly.

Zuko turned to look at Aang.

The kid looked completely horrified.

There was silence as Sokka lowered his arms, confusedly noticing Aang’s expression as well.

Aang suddenly shot up, racing to the side of the ship and leaning over the rail. Everyone stood up worriedly as he stumbled a little on his way there.

“The world thinks I’m _dead?”_ he cried, turning around to face them again. The low hum of conversation on the deck stopped as everyone turned to look at him. _“How_ is that good news? That’s _terrible!”_

“No, it’s great!” Sokka replied.

Zuko loved Sokka, he really did (Agni, he might even be _in_ love with him), but sometimes Zuko had to admit how dense the other boy could be.

“It means the Fire Nation won't be hunting us anymore,” he emphasized happily, even as a spike of guilt pierced Zuko’s heart when Aang’s eyes went straight to him. “And even better,” he added, walking toward Aang, “they won't be expecting you on the Day of Black Sun.”

“No, no, no, no, no,” Aang muttered, his eyes squeezing shut violently. “You have _no_ idea… This is _so_ messed up!” he cried, clutching his head in his hands. Hakoda and Bato both stepped forward worriedly but were cut off by the blast of a foghorn from in front of their ship.

Zuko tensed. They all knew what that sound meant.

Another ship was approaching them.

They were about to be boarded.

“I’ll handle this,” Aang growled, his glider now in his hands as he stared determinedly toward the other ship. “The Avatar is _back.”_ He whirled the glider open, but before he could get on it, he groaned in pain, his arm shooting to his side. Zuko saw him grit his teeth as he pushed through the motions to ready his glider for flight.

Zuko had admired how dedicated the kid could be for a long time, even when he was still trying to capture him and that dedication was a source of annoyance, but not for the first time, he wished that Aang didn’t possess that quality.

“Aang, wait!” Katara cried, a little panicked. “Remember, they don't know we're not Fire Nation.” She’d stepped forward, hands out like she was trying to calm a wild pygmy puma.

Aang was sweating as he stared back at her. After a moment, he closed his glider again, but he didn’t look happy about it.

Zuko’s heartbeat slowed, just a little bit.

“Everyone, just stay calm,” Hakoda called out. His voice carried across the deck and the nervous fidgeting some of the others had taken up ceased immediately. “Bato and I will take care of this,” he continued, both of them putting on their helmets.

There was a flurry of motion as everything was made ready, Pipsqueak and The Duke herding Appa and Momo away and covering them as Toph grabbed onto Aang’s arm and pulled him into one of the stairwells that lead to the lower decks. Katara hurried after them, Sokka pulling up the rear next to him as they followed too.

“I hate not being able to do anything,” Aang grumbled under his breath as Zuko reached the steps, him and Sokka crouching down behind the airbender.

“Hopefully, you won’t need to,” Toph shot back quietly.

There was a tense silence as the other ship pulled up alongside them. Next to him, Katara winced at the groan of their bridge being lowered before it before it slammed onto their deck. Immediately, the captain of the other ship and two of his soldiers began walking across.

Zuko didn’t think they looked too happy.

“Commander, why are you off course?” the other captain demanded, even as Hakoda bowed respectfully. “All Western Fleet ships are supposed to be moving toward Ba Sing Se to support the occupation!”

“Actually, we're from the,” Hakoda tripped a little before carrying on smoothly, “Eastern Fleet. We have orders to deliver some cargo.”

“Ah, Eastern Fleet,” the officer said, as if that explained everything. His hand came up to stroke his beard. “Well, nice of Admiral _Chan_ to let us know he was sending one of his ships our way,” he said bitterly.

“I’m sure Admiral Chan meant no disrespect, sir,” Bato offered pacifyingly.

“I mean, how hard is it to write a quick note and send a hawk our way?” the officer continued, annoyed.

“Next time, we'll send _two_ hawks to make sure you get the message,” Hakoda replied. Zuko could just barely hear the amusement in his voice. He and the officer bowed to each other and Hakoda and Bato turned and began walking away. Zuko could make out the quiet relief on both of their faces.

Toph’s face tightened and it looked like she was listening to something as the other group began walking back across the ramp. Her eyes widened and she shot up onto the deck.

“They know!” she yelled before shoving her hand down to the floor and the sound of metal colliding with metal causing Zuko to wince.

Zuko had seen Toph metalbend once before to fix some damage to the ship after they first took it, but he’d never seen her use it in combat and he could barely stop his jaw from dropping in awe as the metal crunched up under her fingertips and a line cracked down the deck toward the bridge. Zuko watched as the bridge fell from between the ships, splashing and screams sounding as everyone standing on the bridge dropped with it.

Katara leaped up and raced toward the side of the ship, and as she raised her arms, a huge dome of water rose between the ships, pushing them apart. The boat swayed a little and Zuko threw his hand out against the deck to steady himself as Katara grunted and slammed the giant wave against the hull. It shoved them further away and as soon as it ceased, they were moving forward at full pace.

Sokka jumped up to the deck and waved for them to follow as he began running toward the door that led inside. Aang stared out to where the other ship was beginning to turn toward them before frowning and running after Sokka. Zuko took up the rear, making sure that Aang wouldn’t fly off the second the attention was off of him. He’d just reached the door when something came soaring through the air and hitting the side of the ship, causing it to rock again. Zuko threw himself against the wall for balance and shoved himself through the door the second he caught his footing. He rounded the corner, pressing himself to the wall again, Aang on the other side of the pipe next to them. He stumbled a little as another hit rocked the boat, and all he could think is that they _really_ needed to take out those catapults sooner rather than later.

Almost as soon as the complaint crossed his mind, there was yelling.

“Load the Toph!” the earthbender ordered. There was loud grunting from Pipsqueak and a loud thump as something heavy, probably a boulder, dropped to the ground. More impacts sounded, though thankfully nothing was hitting the ship now. At the sound of a huge splash in front of them, all three of them peaked their heads around the corner.

Aang tried to run outside again, but Sokka put his hand on his shoulder, holding him back. He shook his head and motioned for the airbender to wait.

Aang did hold back, but he immediately started banging his head against his staff. Zuko met Sokka’s eyes over the top of Aang’s head. He looked just as concerned as Zuko felt, but right before Zuko was about to reach out and _force_ the kid to stop giving himself a concussion, he stopped on his own. It wasn’t a second too soon as another impact hit the ship, causing it to stutter in a jerking motion.

“I’m gonna give us some cover!” Katara’s voice called out soon after. The sound of rushing water followed her voice, and a thick fog began seeping onto the deck. Zuko leaned over Aang to look outside and found that he couldn’t even see to the end of the deck.

Suddenly, a flaming rock flew through the air and Zuko’s eyes widened.

It was going to hit the ship.

He ducked back, taking Aang into his arms and spinning him away from the door at the boulder slammed into the deck to their right. Zuko shielded Aang’s body with his as sparks and smoke streamed into the room and the floor rocked underneath them.

Aang shoved him off as soon as the ship stabilized. “I can’t just stand by and do nothing!” he declared, running outside.

“Aang, no!” Sokka yelled, reaching out to grab him. Aang slipped under his grasp and kept running, Sokka quick to follow.

Zuko raced after them and exited the door just in time to see Sokka grab onto Aang’s glider. “You're still hurt! And you _have_ to stay secret!” Sokka laid his arm across Aang’s shoulders, steering him back toward cover. “Just let us handle this,” he pleaded.

Aang looked mutinous, and Zuko was a little fearful, even if he’d never admit it. He’d never had a good experience the few times he’d seen the Avatar look that furious. The airbender shoved himself away from Sokka and spun in one smooth motion as he ripped his staff out of Sokka’s grasp.

_“Fine.”_

Aang was walking back toward Zuko, Sokka looking very upset at how angry Aang had been with him, when suddenly he was enveloped in a cloud of smoke as something impacted the deck in front of them.

 _“Sokka!”_ Zuko screamed, his heart in his throat as the other boy disappeared from view.

Zuko ran forward, not sparing a very shocked looking Aang a second look as he passed him. He skidded to a stop next to Sokka, who was alright but coughing as he tried to find the source of the smoke. A second later, they broke through the fog and Zuko could see Katara racing toward the back of the ship after the other boat scored another hit.

“How are we doing?” Toph called out.

“Things couldn’t get much worse,” Sokka called back, his eyes wide.

Immediately after he finished, a giant splash sounded from directly behind them, accompanied by an unearthly screech. Zuko threw himself over Sokka, forcing him to bend down as water rained down on them. He saw Toph and The Duke cringing away as well, before The Duke’s eyes widened to the size of plates and he gaped at the scene behind them.

Zuko straightened and Sokka flipped them both around, and Zuko understood The Duke completely.

A giant serpent towered over them, screeching out again angrily. He recalled Sokka, Katara, and Toph’s heightened stress as they’d gone through The Serpent’s Pass; Sokka had told him about how they’d nearly drowned trying to get across a submerged section when the creature had shown up, how Aang and Katara’s combined effects had barely been enough to slow it down, even after slamming it into the stone. He’d been horrified and selfishly glad that it hadn’t attacked the boat he and his uncle had taken, even as he felt guilty that they had had to deal with the beast instead.

Maybe this was his punishment for that.

“The universe just _loves_ proving me wrong, doesn't it?” Sokka yelled.

“You make it too easy!” Toph complained, and if the serpent wasn’t gearing up to attack them at that exact moment, Zuko might’ve even laughed. 

Zuko panicked as the serpent shot forward and he was a second away from throwing caution to wind and firebending against the thing to drive it back when a flaming rock slammed into its neck. It screeched again and dove back under the water. The ship shifted again like it was going over a large wave, and the faint sound of something popping out of the water came from behind them.

They all ran to the railing, and Zuko watched dumbfounded as the serpent angrily coiled itself around their pursuers.

“Thank you, The Universe,” Sokka said fervently.

Zuko watched in horror as the other ship grew further and further away. They may have been his enemies in that moment, but they were still _his people._

Even as he stared, a huge wall of flame shot up into the sky. The creature let out a bloodcurdling shriek and disentangled itself from the ship as the flames continued, sinking beneath the waves once more.

An eerie silence followed it, but the other ship didn’t pursue them.

* * *

Aang had stomped off in the relative calm that followed the morning chase, and Zuko hadn’t seen him since. Bato had recommended that they leave him alone for now, let him have some time to think through everything and come to terms with it on his own time. Katara had bitten her lip, looking like she wanted nothing more than to run after him then and there, but Hakoda had placed a hand over her shoulder and shook his head, and she’d relented.

The rest of the day passed calmly, though Zuko didn’t relax fully until the port showed up over the horizon just as the sun began setting.

He’d spent the day helping Toph to fix the damage the attack had caused. She’d bent most of the metal back into its proper shape, and Zuko welded it back together. By the time Zuko had settled down for his evening meditation, they’d fixed all the damage they could find, including the gaping hole in the hull that Katara had simply iced over during the fight.

It didn’t look particularly pretty, but the ship was once more fully functional and not in danger of sinking.

About halfway through the sun’s descent toward the skyline, Zuko heard faint shuffling heading his way. He got a full handle on his inner fire again, wrestling it down to acceptable levels, and let out one last breath, opening his eyes.

Sokka, Katara, and Toph were approaching him, a sheepish smile on Sokka’s face as he reached up to rub against the back of his head. The hair there had grown longer at Zuko’s urging, knowing that if Sokka wanted to pass for Fire Nation he’d need to frown out the shaved sides. Zuko sometimes missed the fuzzy feel of the short hair as he ran his hand across it.

“Sorry to interrupt your meditation,” Katara said, “but we were wondering if you wanted to join us for dinner?”

Zuko had noticed that they’d docked shortly after he’d begun meditating, but hadn’t thought much of it at the time.

He nodded and stood up to join them.

“Cool,” Toph said as they walked forward. “We just have to grab Twinkle Toes and then we’ll be on our way.”

They entered the ship and walked down the halls toward Aang’s room. Sokka and Toph argued about what kind of food they were going to get while he and Katara watched on, amused.

Sokka opened the door when they reached it and they all filed inside, Zuko choosing to stay toward the back.

“Hey, Aang,” Toph greeted him happily. “We're going into town to find some dinner.”

Aang’s stomach growled as he put a hand to it. “Well, I _am_ pretty hungry,” he admitted. He sounded like he was trying to make amends for the way he’d stormed off earlier. “Maybe dinner's a good idea.”

“Here, tie this around your head,” Sokka instructed, moving forward with a red bandana in his hands. “It will cover your arrow.”

Aang was glaring at him before he’d even finished speaking.

“I'm not going out if I can't wear my arrow proudly,” he declared angrily. He turned away from them and curled up petulantly on his bed; the tension in his body was visible, even with the bandages covering most of his body. 

“Aang, come on. Be practical,” Sokka pleaded. He sounded a little exasperated, which Zuko knew would do nothing to help defuse the situation.

“You guys go ahead without us,” Katara offered, stepping forward to place a hand on her brother’s shoulder. “We’ll catch up with you.”

Zuko wanted to tell Aang that he understood where he was coming from. Going from being the prince of the Fire Nation to just another refugee had been difficult, and he’d chafed under the weight of pretending to be something he wasn’t, to _hide_ who he was, even if he knew it was for his own good. Uncle had taken to it like a turtleduck to water, just like Sokka, but unlike Sokka, Uncle had known when to take a step back and let Zuko have his petty victories. He knew now that they were the wrong decisions to make at the time, but if he’d been pushed any further, he knew he would’ve stormed off.

So yes, he understood exactly what Aang was feeling in that moment, but he didn’t think Aang would listen to him if he tried to explain that. Aang had saved him beneath those caves, fought against Azula with him, but that was stacked against months of fear and distrust. The worst part was, he couldn’t even be upset about it; he’d done that to himself. 

And he was too much a coward to try and fix it right now.

So he held his tongue and backed out of the room with Sokka and Toph. He waited in silence as Katara talked with Aang, as Aang talked about feeling like he failed loud enough that they could hear every word through the open door, even as Zuko tried not to listen, to allow the airbender at least that much dignity. 

“I don't want you or anyone else risking your lives to fix my mistakes!” rang clearly through the hall.

Zuko felt the words deep in his bones. The image of Uncle standing on his own, Dai Li surrounding him on every side as he yelled for Zuko to run, had seared itself into Zuko’s mind and closing his eyes just made it that much clearer. He felt sick and he knew exactly where the pain and anger in Aang’s voice came from.

The Avatar wasn’t angry at them. He wasn’t even angry at Zuko, like he’d feared.

He was furious with himself.

Katara appeared in the door, but she hesitated before taking the final step over the threshold. “Is there anything you need?” she asked softly.

“I need to redeem myself. I need my honor back.”

And Zuko felt like he couldn’t breathe.

* * *

Dinner had been a somber affair. Zuko hadn’t spoken a word in hours and had made no effort to change that fact. In his defense, no one else had spoken much either.

They’d returned to the ship a few hours later, not long after the stars had begun to shine in the sky. They were quickly covered by dark clouds. Zuko would’ve laughed at how ironic and appropriate it felt if his heart had been in his chest instead of his throat.

Katara had told them that she would be taking Aang the meal they’d gotten for him, hoping that he’d be ready to talk with her. Zuko had watched her go and Toph had left not long after, heading in the direction of their room. 

When it was just him and Sokka left standing on the deck, Zuko had broken away, heading toward the front of the ship. He leaned heavily on the railing, staring into the dark waters that were slowly growing choppy. He was glad they’d docked; he wasn’t particularly excited at the prospect of spending the night at sea in the middle of a storm. Not again.

Sokka slid in next to him, his body pressing securely against Zuko’s. 

A long moment passed where there was nothing but the wind.

“Are you alright?” Sokka finally asked, voice quiet and troubled.

Zuko almost didn’t answer, not wanting to use his voice after so long without it. But he pushed through, knowing that Sokka didn’t deserve his silence just because Zuko was too lazy to even try.

“I’m not the one you need to worry about.” He winced a little at how rough his voice came out.

“I can worry about multiple people at once. I’m talented like that,” Sokka joked, a bitter grin on his face.

Zuko dropped his head low. “You shouldn’t have to,” he mumbled. Sokka was always worrying; about his sister, about Toph, and Aang and his dad and the invasion plan and a million other things that he felt responsible for, and Zuko didn’t want to be another thing that Sokka lost sleep over.

“I’m fine,” he continued, lifting his head again with a sigh. “Really.”

Sokka leaned more of his weight against Zuko. “Sure. That’s why you haven’t said a word all night; why you looked like someone had kicked you in the gut when Aang talked about needing his honor back and needing to redeem himself.”

Zuko figured that the way he flinched at Sokka’s words did nothing to convince Sokka that he was as fine as he claimed.

“It’s-” Zuko tried to formulate the words, but his mind was failing him. “I’m not-”

Sokka laid his hand over Zuko’s, and Zuko stopped.

“Is this about your dad?” Sokka asked seriously. He was staring at Zuko, forcing him to meet his eyes with the quiet intensity that shined within them.

Zuko hated the way he started shaking because of it. He forced his eyes closed as he turned his head away. “It shouldn’t affect me this much,” he whispered.

Sokka’s arm came up around his shoulders, pulling Zuko closer to him and Zuko threw himself into the hug, burying his face in Sokka’s neck.

“I know _exactly_ what he’s feeling, Sokka. He feels like he failed, like everything is burning down around him as the ground is being ripped out from under his feet, and there’s nothing he can do to stop any of it. He doesn’t know who he is now, who he’s _allowed_ to be, and he feels like he has to fix everything on his own, but he doesn’t know _how.”_

Sokka’s arms tightened around him. “Speaking from experience?” His voice was a little rougher too.

“I don’t know what to do,” Zuko murmured into Sokka’s neck. “I just want Uncle back, and I want my dad to be proud of me, to tell me that everything’s alright now and that he’s proud of me, that he’s _sorry.”_ Zuko pulled back to look Sokka in the eye. _“Why_ do I still want to forgive him? Why do I still need him to forgive _me?”_

The devastation in Sokka’s face made Zuko feel sick again, made him wish he hadn’t said anything at all, but Sokka took Zuko’s face in his hands, rested his forehead against Zuko’s and that touch was all he could focus on as their breaths mingle together.

“He’s your dad,” Sokka whispered. “However horrible he is, he’s still your _dad_ and it’s not wrong of you to wish that he were better. But you need to know, Zuko, you _don’t_ need redemption from him; you never did.

“You got your honor back when you chose Aang over your sister, against the happy lie she tried to spin you. You redeemed yourself when you chose to follow your uncle, the man that’s loved and cared for you more than your father ever did. He would be proud of you if he were here. You made one of the hardest decisions I could ever imagine when you chose us over your father, and so many people are proud of you for having the strength to do it. Your uncle, my dad, Bato, they _all_ care for you so much, and they’re all _so_ proud of you; _I’m_ so proud of you.”

The tears slipped down Zuko’s cheeks and Sokka’s thumbs brushed them away before they could fall to the floor. Zuko couldn’t stop himself from tilting forward to kiss him, and the feel of Sokka’s lips moving gently against his made him shake even more, but he wouldn’t trade that feeling for the world. When he pulled back, resting his head against Sokka’s again, he raised his hand and laid it over Sokka’s. He stroked his thumb over the inside of Sokka’s wrist.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

He pulled away and turned back toward the open sea. The wind whipped at his hair, blowing it away from his face, but Sokka curled up against him again and Zuko didn’t feel so cold anymore.

Zuko wasn’t sure how much time passed as they stood there together before pounding footsteps made them both turn around. 

Katara and Hakoda were running toward them, Toph and Bato not far behind.

“What’s wrong?” Sokka demanded.

“Aang is gone,” Katara answered firmly. “We have to go after him.”

Zuko saw the way Sokka’s eyes widened. “We’re bringing him back?” he asked, sounding like he already knew the answer.

Hakoda stepped forward, folding Sokka into a tight hug. “Not for a while,” he whispered, his voice as tight as the hold he had on his son.

Toph and Bato were busy getting Appa’s saddle on him and Zuko joined them, giving the family a moment alone before they were forced apart again.

As they finished tying on Appa’s reins, Toph ran off to grab their belongings. Before Zuko could follow, Bato’s hand stopped him.

Bato’s face had always been far more serious than Haokda’s or Uncle’s ever were, but it looked so sad in that moment that Zuko had to push his arms around the man’s waist just so that he wouldn’t have to see the well hidden pain anymore.

Bato’s arm curled around his back, his hand resting against Zuko’s head as he held him close.

“Thank you,” Zuko whispered for the second time that night.

“You’re so much stronger than you think you are,” Bato replied quietly. “Remember that, and how much we care about you.”

Zuko nodded against his chest, memorizing every detail of the embrace as he forced himself to pull away from it. 

It was then that Toph came back, bags slung over her shoulder as she threw them up into Appa’s saddle. Hakoda also came over, arms around both of his children as they each held tight to him.

He hugged them both against him one last time. “I’ll see you for the invasion,” he promised.

“I love you,” Katara replied, Sokka’s “Love you Dad,” following a second later.

He let them go and they both walked over to Bato, hugging him between them. Hakoda walked over to Zuko, pulling him into a gentle hug.

Zuko had to close his eyes as he hugged back. 

“I couldn’t have asked for anyone better for my son,” Hakoda whispered into his hair, smoothing his hand over the back of Zuko’s head.

“You’re one of the best men I’ve ever met,” Zuko whispered back. “Thank you.” Thank you for being such a strong leader; thank you for giving Sokka the confidence he needed; thank you for loving your children; for giving Zuko a chance.

Hakoda squeezed him tight before letting go.

He gripped Toph’s shoulder lightly as she moved past, bringing her attention to him. “Take care of them,” he told her, a smile on his lips. “You know how much trouble they get into.”

She brightened, a wicked grin lighting up her face as she nodded.

“Yes, sir,” she replied enthusiastically as Sokka groaned. 

The four of them quickly climbed onto Appa, Momo skittering up after them and settling next to Katara on top of the bison’s head.

Zuko sat down next to Toph, Sokka on her other side as she held tight to the saddle.

He looked back as they lifted into the air. Hakoda and Bato were standing on the deck of the ship, watching them as they climbed higher into the night.

Zuko kept his eyes on them until they disappeared from view.

* * *

The rain was streaming down his face, but Aang barely felt it with how soaked and numb he already was. He clung to the driftwood as hard as he could, even as he wondered what the point was.

“I’m not gonna make it,” he whispered over the roar of the thunder and waves, waiting for one of them to take him under and end it. “I failed.” He needed to hear himself say it, needed the dull ache of pain that accompanied it. He was supposed to be the Avatar, the hope of the people that would protect and defend them, but he couldn’t even save himself.

He closed his eyes against the stinging pain, even though a few tears was nothing compared to the downpour that battered against his cheeks. He was glad he had, though, when a second later, a flash of lightning struck right in front of him, brightening the world more than Aang could stand. When he looked up in shock, he saw Avatar Roku hovering just above the thrashing waves. 

“Roku?” he asked, wondering if he was dreaming; if Roku would tell him that this was just a vision of a possible future and Aang would wake up in a cold sweat.

“You haven’t failed, Aang,” his past life said kindly, but the words felt hollow to Aang.

“But everyone thinks I'm dead again. They think I've abandoned them… and I'm losing this war,” he admitted hopelessly. There was a bitter stinging in his throat that joined the burning in his eyes. The truth of what he was saying weighed him down more than the water ever could. “I'm letting the whole world down.”

“If anyone is to blame for the state of the world, it is me,” Roku argued, his voice quiet and somber even as it sounded over the roaring of the wind. “I should have seen this war coming and prevented it. You inherited my problems, and my mistakes,” he said, and Aang could hear the regret and sadness in his voice. He wasn’t meeting Aang’s eyes anymore. “Both of you did,” he added quietly, and Aang glanced up in confusion.

Both? 

“But I believe you are destined to redeem me,” he continued, “and save the world.” 

The attempt at comfort and encouragement just made him feel worse. It pushed aside his confusion, his longing for answers to so many things, and left him feeling empty.

“I don’t know,” he breathed, looking away from Roku.

A light shined down on him as another voice echoed all around. “You already saved the world.” Aang looked up toward the source of the light, toward the moon, only to see an elegantly dressed figure appear above him.

Yue… 

The sight of her caused guilt to course through him again. He hadn’t been able to save her. He hadn’t been able to stop Zhao from murdering the moon spirit, and Yue had paid the price for his ineptitude. And he knew that he wasn’t the only one who regretted his inaction that day. Aang would catch Sokka staring up into the sky some nights when he thought that they were all asleep, and Aang had wished a thousand times that things could’ve been different, that he could’ve spared his friend and Yue’s family the pain of losing her.

Yet, here she was, telling him that _he’d_ saved them all. And Sokka had told him later that she’d called it her duty, that seeing Aang determined to go to any lengths to protect her people and the world from the Fire Nation had strengthened her resolve as she pulled away from him, but Aang had always known that it was her own strength that had saved them all. 

As he considered her words, though, Aang realized he had been the one to give her that opportunity. With the ocean spirit, he’d fought back the Fire Nation and given her the time and safety she needed to make that decision for herself. 

Aang hadn’t been able to save them on his own. He’d had to trust that the people he’d let into his life could do what he wasn’t able to. He could offer them protection and hope, but he had to let them help him too.

Yue smiled at him as her words lifted the shame from his heart. “And you'll save the world again,” she promised. “But you can't give up.”

She began descending toward him, the rain ceasing and the water abating to a quiet calm in her presence. Aang felt his spirit do the same, and he felt like he truly belonged in his own body again.

“You're right,” he recognized. He couldn’t run away and hope that the people he loved would be safe. He couldn’t do this alone. He would fail without them, _truly_ leaving them alone. He needed their strength to do this, to fight off the hopelessness he felt and give him a chance to end this war. Just like his actions had given Yue the chance to save them at the North Pole, he needed his family around to do the same for him.

“I _won't_ give up,” he vowed. And he wouldn’t. He’d nearly been killed underneath Ba Sing Se because he hadn’t trusted that his friends would all make it out alive. He’d nearly drowned in this ocean for the same reason. But he refused to give up hope anymore.

Things would work out for them.

He _would_ defeat the Firelord and end this war.

And he would do it with his family at his side.

* * *

They’d been flying in the pouring rain for hours, all of them hunkered down as they searched for Aang’s form in the sky and among the waves. They’d passed quietly over the blockade, no one on the ships below willing to watch the skies in a downpour. Zuko didn’t know how it felt to finally be home again; he’d chased the group around him into these waters once before, of course, but he’d known then that he wouldn’t be staying. He’d focused on finding the Avatar then, and Zuko did the same now. No one could afford for him to be distracted by the dull ache deep within him.

Zuko felt the sting of the wind on his face and the ice cold water on his back, wondering how much longer they could take this, when suddenly the rain stopped. He straightened up, looking around in confusion at the abrupt halt. He saw Katara’s head looking around from the front and turned around to ask Sokka if he knew what had happened, but the words died on his tongue as he saw how stiff the Water Tribe boy had become. 

He was staring out across the waves and Zuko looked past him, trying to see what had caught his boyfriend’s attention so completely. He didn’t see Aang flying toward them like he’d thought he might, but he did see the bright beam of light that shone down on a patch of water in the distance.

“Katara,” Sokka whispered in a hoarse voice.

“I see it,” she replied, sounding far more excited than Sokka had. She turned Appa toward it and they approached at a fast pace. They slowed as they reached it, and Zuko looked over the side of the bison, expecting to see Aang illuminated among the waves. 

There was nothing there.

“What-?” he started, turning toward Sokka again, but Sokka cut him off, pointing off into the distance.

“That way.”

“Are you sure?” Katara asked, though she was already directing Appa in the direction her brother had indicated.

“I’m sure,” Sokka replied quietly. “That’s the way the waves are moving,” he added.

That was enough for Katara and they were moving again.

 _Nice work,_ Zuko turned to say, but again, the words never made it past his lips once he caught sight of his boyfriend.

Sokka was staring directly at the moon as it shone brightly through the dark clouds around it. There was an emotion Zuko couldn’t name that played across his face.

“Thank you,” Sokka whispered, his eyes never leaving the moon’s light.

 _Take care of him,_ a sad voice echoed. Zuko flipped around in a panic, looking for the being it was attached to, but there was no one besides the four of them. They were alone with an endless expanse of ocean in every direction.

He looked above them, but there was no one flying over them either. The moon’s bright light caught his eye, just like it had Sokka’s, and Zuko could almost swear that he saw a silhouette against it before he blinked and it was gone.

* * *

They came within sight of the island just as the sun rose over the horizon. He had been too anxious to sleep that night, they all were, but he felt just a little stronger as the sun’s light fell over him. 

The temple that had once stood proudly upon the isle’s peaks was nowhere to be seen. Lava flowed down the volcano and fiery smoke rose out of the top, giving the place a haunted feeling. He still remembered the blue light that had blinded him when the doors opened and the white eyes that glowed eerily out of the darkness; he recalled the fear that had filled his body as a ghostly figure sent Zhao’s fire back at them, the relief and confusion he’d felt when the fire did nothing more than destroy the chains that had encircled him, even as it washed over his entire body. It had felt like nothing more than a warm embrace.

He hadn’t realized until then just how powerful the Avatar really was. He’d had a few small tastes, but after seeing that Aang was just a kid, he’d realized that the Avatar at that point was nothing more than a childish airbender, albeit a masterful one. The spirit of Avatar Roku, on the other hand, had effortlessly caused a volcano to erupt, destroying everything on the island and condemning it to be uninhabited for who knew how long.

He’d gained an understanding of how much power Aang actually held that day, and he didn’t exactly find it reassuring to be here again.

But it wasn’t like he hadn’t followed Aang into more far dangerous places than this before.

“There!” Katara shouted, her voice breaking with relief as they dove down towards the shore.

Zuko looked along the beach and saw an unconscious figure washed up on the rocks, water lapping at his feet.

He heard Toph breathe out a sigh of relief next to him. He’d learned a few weeks ago that she hated flying because she couldn’t see anything and it made her feel vulnerable. He could imagine that she was excited to get back to her element, to _see_ again, even for just a moment.

Momo was racing off toward Aang even before they’d fully landed. The rest of them followed as soon as Appa stopped moving, Katara in the lead with Sokka not far behind.

Katara dropped to her knees the second she reached Aang, pulling him into an embrace. As everyone reached the two, they piled on top, joining the hug until it was just Zuko who stood back awkwardly; even Appa nuzzled in beside the group.

He was glad they’d found Aang, and that he seemed to be unharmed, but he wasn’t sure where he stood with the airbender yet.

Just as the thought of hiding behind Appa crossed his mind, Aang called out, “I thought this was a _group_ hug?”

Aang was staring directly at him, a small smile on his face. Zuko could see the forgiveness that was written on those features, was sure that Aang could probably see the shock on his own, but he took a hesitant step forward.

“We don’t have all day, y’know,” Toph teased, and Zuko smiled, kneeling down behind her and laying his arms gently across the group. He rested his chin on her head, the unscarred side of his face pressed against Sokka’s.

He wasn’t sure what would happen now, what the future would hold in store for them, but as he sat on this burning island with his arms around people who cared about him, Zuko thought that maybe that was okay, just for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i wasn't planning on posting this for a while still (looks like this fic is just going to be updated whenever it feels like it lmao), and i might still come back and clean this up a little at some point, but!! to-a-merrier-world posted an absolutely AMAZING bato/hakoda fic, and since this chapter is the last we'll see of those two in person for a while, i thought i'd upload this in honor of them! it **is** explicit, but if you don't mind that, please go give their fic some love because it's honestly so wonderful!!
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/24974512


	3. The Headband

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a really good mood song to listen to while reading the sections where zuko and sokka are taking, if you’re into that type of thing like i am, is good lesson by bastille!
> 
> for the longer bit towards the end, just before the dance party, doom days by bastille and my blood by twenty one pilots are also highly recommended
> 
> aka, buckle up your seat belts kids, this one’s a long and wild ride (this ended at like 110 pages on the google doc i’m writing it on if that tells you anything. [chapter 2 ended on page 60])
> 
> also, a fair warning for both the length of the chapter itself and the author’s note at the end: i’m incapable of shutting up, and yes, i am aware of that fact

They flew for the rest of the day, only stopping on deserted island chains when Appa needed a rest. By the time the sun was starting to sink beneath the horizon, they’d set up camp not far from the mainland. 

Zuko still didn’t know how to feel about being home.

Out on the islands that no one inhabited, it was easier to get caught up in the other’s antics, to pretend that he was still in the Earth Kingdom. But as he lay in his sleeping bag with nothing but the sound of the ocean crashing against the cliff face below them, he couldn’t pretend anymore.

Tomorrow, he would be setting foot in his homeland for the first time in three years. The welcome that he’d always longed for wouldn’t be forthcoming. Instead, just like Aang, he’d have to viciously hide who he was. 

At least he wouldn’t have to hide his scar. It was still a memorable feature that would draw attention and be easily traceable should Azula catch wind of it, but it wouldn’t immediately announce to his people who he was. No one from his nation, other than the occasional military personnel and his sister, had seen him since before his banishment, and he knew that his father hadn’t informed their people of the fact that he’d destroyed half of his son’s face. He’d overheard Uncle talking about it with someone once, not long after his banishment began, though he hadn’t had the courage to look and see who it was. His uncle would have been upset if he knew that Zuko had heard the pain and rage in his voice, so he’d never told him that he was eavesdropping that night instead of lying in bed.

As Zuko laid now under the light of the stars, his thoughts grew too loud for sleep to be an option, so he quietly slid out of his bedroll and walked to the cliff’s edge. Water was the opposite of his element, but he’d spent childhood summers on the beaches of Ember Island and several years at sea, so in some ways, it was as familiar as the fire within him. 

The ocean also reminded him of Uncle. He could remember searching the shoreline for shells with Lu Ten as his cousin’s father watched them from a distance; building castles with the wet sand as Uncle laughed, and warm nights around a fire on his uncle’s lap, his eyes closing sleepily as he watched Lu Ten chase the sparks that fell through the air.

Uncle holding him close that first night at sea as he sobbed, the pain of the burn and his banishment overwhelming. 

Zuko sat in the grass, knees drawn up to his chest as he stared out at the waves that he’d grown so familiar with; more familiar than a firebender had any right to be. He wondered if that made him any more of a disgrace than his people already thought he was.

The sound of footsteps behind him made him turn around, and he saw Toph approaching. She sat down next to him, and Zuko knew she would’ve made a seat for herself out of the rock beneath them if it wouldn’t have destroyed the grass and left a trace of them should anyone bother to look. It wasn't something she was used to worrying about, but Zuko had made sure to warn her of it.

Much like Zuko and Toph themselves, their homelands were very different on the outside, but made of the same things. Where Toph grew up surrounded by mountains and dry dirt, Zuko knew volcanoes, sand, and grass that stretched for miles across fertile soil. Where Toph was small and consistently loud, Zuko was taller and far more extreme in his presentation to the world; he could be as sullen and quiet as a snail sloth or as brash and explosive as the komodo rhinos they took into battle.

But just like the same four elements made up both of their homes, Zuko had found that, of all of them, he related to Toph the most. She’d also been raised by parents who were disappointed by her very existence. She had been forced into a mold she didn’t know how to fit and had been isolated from others her age in an attempt to hide her away. She had never been allowed to truly express herself, and when she showed her excellence in her chosen form, her parents had tried to force her to give it up; it wasn’t something that was seen as  _ proper _ for her station.

She knew what it was to find a chance at freedom in the form of a bald monk and two bickering siblings and grab at it desperately with both hands.

She was also the one that was least likely to get him to talk about his feelings.

Katara, Aang, and even Sokka were all very emotional people and had no issue with it, though Sokka was admittedly more subtle about it most of the time. Toph, however, was as tough and steady as her element, something Zuko found comfort in when everything was just too much.

She’d also been the only one of them to sleep as they traveled. Aang had been at the reigns, Katara had been unable to take her eyes off him, Zuko had been giving them directions, and Sokka had sat in the back, gaze far away even as Toph leaned against him. They had all been exhausted by the time they landed for the night, Zuko being no exception, but he couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes.

He sat in silence with her for a long moment, staring out into the dark water while Toph laid back on the grass, her vacant eyes staring up toward the sky that she’d never see.

“How long has it been?” she asked quietly.

She may not bring up emotions of her own volition very often, but when she did, she was as straightforward and perceptive as always.

“Three years,” he answered, just as quiet. He knew she was watching him, even if he refused to look at her.

“I was a little older than you when I… left.”  _ Was thrown out, _ he wanted to say. 

Toph didn’t reply for a minute. “I heard about your banishment, a while after it happened. My parents thought they were being quiet; they didn’t think I would be listening in.” Her head turned toward him the slightest bit. “Did he… did your father really burn you?”

Zuko tucked his chin over his knees. “Yeah.” His father hadn't told their people, but that didn't mean that news hadn't spread to others. The words of the old man from Lee's remote little town still slipped into his dreams sometimes.

_ His own father burned and disowned him! _

“Is that what’s keeping you up?”

“No.” There were many things running through his mind tonight, but that wasn’t one of them. The horrified look on Hakoda’s face as he told him about the Agni Kai had stuck with him over the past few weeks; Sokka’s breaking voice in the cave as he asked what had happened and condemned the Firelord with the same breath; Bato’s narrowing eyes any time he caught sight of his scar and thought Zuko wasn’t watching him. All of it had chipped away at the wall he’d built, the one that told him his father had been forced to do it, had just been teaching him a necessary lesson; that it was his own fault. Two fathers and a son had told him that that view was wrong, and after thinking about Uncle, about the way he would have rather died himself than ever hurt Lu Ten, he knew they were right. He felt conflicted about his father, but not about that. Not any more.

“How do I know I’m doing the right thing?” he eventually asked. 

And that was the true issue he didn’t know how to answer. His father may have failed as a parent and led to the suffering of so many, but was this the right way to fix that? If they defeated him, then what? Would Zuko be put on the throne? The idea was as laughable as it was unimaginable. But if he  _ was, _ if Uncle couldn’t rule instead, would he be any better? Would he be able to avoid the traps that his forefathers had fallen into? Would he stumble into new ones, taking his people into further ruin with him? He was going to be among them for the first time in so long, would they even still feel familiar to him? He’d grown used to the green of the Earth Kingdom during those long months, and seeing the Water Tribe men dressed in red had felt wrong, but was that just because he knew they should have been in blue, or because Zuko had changed too much to ever truly feel comfortable surrounded by the reds of his homeland again?

“I don’t belong here,” he whispered.

Toph stayed silent, and Zuko let her.

“When you think about it, would you change anything you’ve done?”

There were so many things Zuko would change, but he knew that wasn’t what she was asking.

Choosing Sokka over Azula.

Protecting the Avatar instead of capturing him.

Helping Hakoda steal a ship from his people.

Heading home without gaining any redemption from his father.

Choosing to fight against him, to  _ stop _ him.

All of it had felt right when he’d done it, and all of it felt right now. It soothed over a part of him that had felt like it was drowning his entire life.

“No. I wouldn’t.”

He saw Toph smile out of the corner of his eye. “Then I guess you have your answer, Sparky. And even if you don’t belong anywhere else, which I’m  _ not  _ saying is true… you belong with us.”

He heard the unspoken  _ just like I do. _ Zuko looked back at the three bodies that were asleep at Appa’s feet, the small white ball of Momo resting atop Aang’s bandaged chest. It had always been the five of them, ever since Aang had risen out of the icy depths of the South Pole (and hadn’t  _ that _ been an interesting story to hear). Toph had come in to find an already established group, Zuko even more so.

But they both knew that they  _ all  _ belonged, which wasn’t a feeling Zuko was used to having in his life.

“Thank you.” 

Toph stood up, punching his shoulder in reply and holding out her hand. 

_ It’s how I show affection, _ she had told him the first time she’d done it. It really did suit her, even if it hurt more than he’d like. He let her haul him up and they walked back to the group. Zuko laid down again, and Toph rolled over next to him, laying her head on his chest.

“Shut up,” she whispered immediately. “It’s cold and you’re warm.”

Sokka had told him much the same thing before. Firebenders were far better at regulating the heat in their bodies, and keeping himself warm in the late spring air was a simple matter when compared to staying alive under the freezing ocean of the North Pole. A slight breeze was nothing.

He knew that wasn’t the real reason Toph had cuddled up to him, but was content to leave that unsaid.

He fell asleep fast with her comforting weight on his body.

***

“I think I see a cave below,” Aang called out as Appa began lowering them toward the ground. Aang was standing in the middle of his bison's saddle, no fear of falling in his body language, and bending a cloud around them. Zuko honestly wasn’t sure how he could see  _ anything, _ much less something as specific as a cave, but he refrained from commenting as Sokka shushed them.

All of that meant nothing, however, when Aang blew the cloud away, causing multiple birds to cry out. Appa grunted as he landed, and Sokka shot off immediately, flattening his back against an outcropping of rock.

So much for quiet.

“Great job with the cloud camo,” Sokka said, staring disapproving at them as they dismounted, “but next time, let's disguise ourselves as the kind of cloud that knows how to keep its mouth shut.”

“Yeah, we wouldn't want a bird to hear us chatting up there and turn us in,” Toph mocked as they walked closer. Zuko understood and appreciated Sokka’s attempts to keep them concealed, but he was also moderately sure that Aang wouldn’t have chosen a spot where they would be easily overheard by wandering locals.

“Hey,” Sokka shot back, “we're in  _ enemy  _ territory. Those are  _ enemy  _ birds.” He pointed dubiously at the ones on the rock above him, one of which decided to hop down onto his head and squawked at them.

“I’m sure the toucan puffins are going to rat us out the second we turn our back,” Zuko responded dryly, crossing his arms.

The others giggled as Sokka shot him a look of betrayal. Zuko rolled his eyes, and walked toward the cave with them, leaving Sokka to shoo the bird off his hair without destroying his wolf tail.

Sokka ran to catch up with them after getting the bird to leave, little strands of hair falling into his face at his temples. Zuko had mourned the loss of Sokka with his hair down, but he had to admit the other boy looked just as good with it up. 

When it looked like Sokka was ready to jump in front of the group, however, Zuko grabbed his boyfriend’s shoulder, planting him firmly to the ground.

He’d had to keep Sokka grounded far more often than he had expected when he’d first gone with him. He was a genius and Zuko sometimes felt like his heart would beat out of his chest when Sokka smiled at him, but he was a little eccentric at times. He had been the oldest for so long that Zuko got the feeling he wasn’t used to being called out for his, at times, overly-cautious nature by a peer rather than his little sister. 

Zuko himself still hadn’t gotten used to the fact that he was now one of the most responsible members of a group.

Sokka pouted, but rushed around Toph, taking the lead and leaving Zuko to trail behind. 

He looked carefully around the cave before turning around to face them once they had all entered. “Well,” he announced, “this is it. This is how we'll be living until the invasion begins. Hiding in cave after cave… after cave after cave…” His head dropped lower and his voice grew more defeated as he trailed off. Zuko walked forward and placed his hand softly on Sokka’s shoulder again, shaking his head in amusement as Katara spoke up.

“Sokka, we don't need to become cave people,” she argued. “What we  _ need  _ is some new clothes.” She looked down at her crumpled dress that Zuko knew had seen better days.

“Yeah,” Aang agreed, his hands on his hips. His pants, the only part of his outfit they had been able to salvage, were even worse off, singed and torn by Azula's lightning. “Blending in is better than hiding out. If we get Fire Nation disguises, we would be just as safe as we would be hiding in a cave.” Aang smiled at the prospect and Momo perked up from where he was perched on Katara’s shoulder.

“He’s right,” Zuko said, turning to look at Sokka. “It’s how Uncle and I stayed alive so long in the Earth Kingdom, and if Azula hadn’t shown up, we probably could have lived out the rest of our lives without anyone realizing.”

“Plus, they have real food out there,” Toph chimed in from where she was lounging against the rocks. “Does anyone want to sit in the dirt and eat cave hoppers?” she asked rhetorically, slamming her elbow against the wall of the cave. Several bugs flew out into the cave as Zuko cringed. Agni, if she wasn’t an earthbender… 

Momo shot forward, snatching up one of the bugs. His chittering echoed in the cave before he froze and turned around, one of the legs still sticking out of his mouth.

Zuko felt his stomach turn just a little bit at the sight.

“Looks like we got outvoted, sport,” Sokka lamented, before perking up again. “Let’s get some new clothes.”

“Yes!” Aang yelled, already running out of the cave, Katara jogging after him with a smile. Toph pushed herself up and followed. When Sokka made to do the same, however, Zuko held him back.

Sokka frowned at him. “What?”

Zuko hesitated. “Are you… okay?” he asked.

Sokka hadn’t said much yesterday after they’d found Aang. Between the lack of his usual chatter and Toph being asleep, the ride here had been overly quiet. And though he wouldn’t admit it if anyone asked, he was pretty sure that part of the reason he couldn’t sleep last night was because Sokka had chosen to sleep in between his sister and Aang, rather than by him. Zuko had gotten too used to sharing a sleeping space apparently. 

Sokka’s frown deepened. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

And the words sounded right, Sokka was still meeting his eyes, but there was something in the way that he pulled his arm away from Zuko’s grasp that made Zuko think that there was something he wasn’t being told.

“Come on,” Sokka called over his shoulder, jogging to catch up to the others, and suddenly Zuko was alone in the cave with Appa, who groaned and laid down in the dirt. Zuko sighed and walked after them.

***

They followed Aang over to a waterfall he claimed he had seen as they were flying over. Sure enough, when they peaked their head over the rocks they were hiding behind, a building and several clotheslines lay in front of them. 

“I don’t know about this,” Aang admitted. “These clothes belong to somebody.”

Zuko felt the same. When he’d suggested new clothes, he’d thought that he or Sokka would go into town to buy them with the little money they had left. And sure he’d stolen a lot right after the North Pole and he was the last person that had a leg to stand on when it came to berating others for it, but he’d grown since then. Uncle had gotten it through his thick skull that the people he was stealing from didn’t deserve it and that it was wrong to do so (though he still maintained that the boat captain  _ had  _ deserved it). He knew Uncle would be disappointed if he stole again.

That is, if he didn’t already hate Zuko for leaving him behind.

“I call the silk robe!” Katara yelled, jumping out of hiding and running toward the clothes.

“But if it’s essential to our survival…” Aang relented, “then I call the suit!” He too threw himself over the rocks, Toph not far behind him. 

Zuko sighed. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d disgraced himself, and he doubted it would be the last. At least this was a minor transgression.

He made a note of where they were though. Once everything was said and done, if he could, he’d visit and pay whoever owned the clothes back for their unwitting contribution to the war effort.

He grabbed the loosest fitting clothes that he could find. He was used to covering his entire body, between the garbs of the Earth Kingdom, the armor he’d worn while searching for the Avatar, and the robes and well tailored outfits of his youth, so when he saw a short sleeve top that wouldn’t cling to him as tightly and pants that flowed out a little in the thighs, he took them. He grudgingly grabbed a pair of plain footwear that would come up just below his knees to tuck the loose pants into as well, knowing it would get more uncomfortable the further into summer they got, but it would make Aang, who was now covered head to toe in order to hide his tattoos, stand out a little less. The clothes that Zuko had grabbed for himself looked a little more worn and well loved than what Aang had chosen, but he needed something that looked as far away from nobility as possible, and used clothes were a good start.

He knew he should probably have grabbed a robe instead, since he was old enough to start wearing them now, but he wasn’t ready to take that step yet. He grabbed a dark tunic and sash that matched the one Toph had chosen as a compromise instead.

By the time he’d changed out of his military issue outfit and into his new clothes, Aang was tying a bandana around his forehead, fully covering the last of his tattoos. He gaze turned to Sokka, and he noticed the dark bands Sokka had tied around his biceps as he raised his arms up to pull his hair into a topknot. It wasn’t a common accessory in the Fire Nation, but it wasn’t unheard of either. Mostly they were just worn by guards.

They reminded him of the band Hakoda wore on his left arm; Zuko knew the man had even worn it underneath his armor while on the ship. He also knew he should probably speak up and veto Sokka's addition, not wanting them to stand out any more than necessary, but his mind kept looping back to the way Sokka had clung desperately to his father every time they hugged.

He didn’t say anything as he pulled his boots on.

“Ta-dah!” Aang announced as he turned around with a flourish. “Normal kid.”

Zuko didn’t envy how warm he would get with so many heavy layers, but he did look good. If it weren’t for his big gray eyes, Zuko could almost believe that his gaze would be able to skip right over the kid if he saw him on the street. From a distance, they were dark enough to pass for brown, but almost no one in the Fire Nation had eyes that wide. Ty Lee was honestly the only person Zuko could think of off the top of his head.

Toph hummed. “I should probably wear shoes… But then I won't be able to see as well.” Zuko  _ had  _ noticed that she never wore shoes, and he felt a little bad, but there was no way she’d be able to run around without them. It would draw too many disapproving eyes. “Sorry, shoes!” she sang gleefully, sitting down and shoving her foot through the sole, the bottom flying off and smacking Sokka in the face. Zuko had to choke down a laugh at the sight, not wanting to make Sokka feel any worse.

“Finally,” she continued, admiring her work, “a stylish shoe for the blind earthbender.” Zuko looked back toward his boots, hiding his smile behind the choppy hair that fell over his eyes.

He looked up again when he heard Katara approach. “How do I look?” she asked happily.

Putting it frankly, she looked beautiful. Like Ty Lee, she had chosen an outfit that showed off her midriff, a choice she would appreciate as it got hotter. Like her brother, her top also left her arms uncovered and she too had chosen gold bands for her upper arms. Her wide blue eyes wouldn’t be as easy to hide as Aang’s, and her and Sokka’s darker skin would stand out a bit more than Aang or Toph’s pale complexions, but all in all, she looked nice. The blush he could see on Aang’s cheeks seemed to agree with him.

Her outfit was impeccable; except for one thing.

“Uh, your mom’s necklace…” Aang pointed out, sounding guilty.

Katara immediately reached a hand up toward the pendant, something Zuko had seen her do many times, but this time it looked familiar for another reason.

Hakoda had done the same thing with the band on his upper arm several times during the past few weeks when he was lost in thought. His hand would curl absently around his arm and seem to cave into himself, closing his eyes, or staring off vacantly toward the horizon, just like Katara was doing now. The first time he’d seen the man do so was when he’d told Zuko about his wife.

He was doubly glad he hadn’t said anything to Sokka about the arm bands now.

“Oh,” Katara said glumly. “Oh, yeah. I guess it’s pretty obviously Water Tribe, isn’t it?” she acknowledged, already reaching up to take it off. Zuko was pretty sure even someone who had never met her before would be able to read the sorrow in her voice, despite her attempts to hide it. She held the blue ribbon in her hand, staring down sadly as she closed her fist around it.

She looked… off, without something around her neck. It was such a small strip of fabric, but she looked wrong without it, seeming almost naked now, which was absurd since she was still fully clothed. Still, Zuko felt another pang of guilt about taunting her with it, back when she’d lost it. It was all she had left of a mother who loved her; Zuko knew if he’d had anything of his mother’s left, he would never want to be away from it.

“You could tie it around your leg,” Zuko pointed out before he could stop himself.

Katara frowned gently, confusion clear on her face. “What?” She tilted her head the same way her father and brother did.

Zuko felt his heart rate rise as they all turned to look at him. “I- I mean,” he stuttered, internally cursing himself; he never  _ had _ been able to keep his mouth shut. “Sorry, it was a stupid idea. Ignore me,” he muttered, facing the ground again.

“Maybe not,” Katara said quietly. Zuko looked up at her, and there was a small smile on her face. “It might not work, but… thank you anyways,” she said.

Zuko blinked and nodded, standing up to hide the way he flushed at her gratitude.

“We should leave before anyone notices their clothes are missing,” he said, already heading back toward the cave.

He heard them all shuffling behind him but resolutely stared forward. Someone drew up beside him, matching his pace.

Sokka.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, also looking forward.

Zuko’s blush deepened. “You’re welcome,” he whispered. 

And if his hand brushed against Sokka’s as they walked, well. No one said anything about it.

When they reached the cave again, Katara pulled out her white wrappings and rolled up her skirt and the leg of her pants. The necklace wasn’t quite long enough for her to tie it around her lower thigh; the strain from the muscles working there as she walked would break the clasp if she tried. She laid it down against her skin instead, and wrapped the white cloth over it, completely covering the blue and holding it in a snug fit against her skin. When she stood, her clothes covered it completely. She flexed her leg around, testing the tightness, and kicked up. Aang assured her that nothing was visible. The pants flowed out loosely around her calves, but tightened enough to still be comfortable while preventing any unfortunate flashing of skin just above the knee. 

Zuko could see how much lighter Katara seemed without the total loss of her necklace, and Sokka was smiling softly from where he was leaning against the cave walls watching.

He really did look unfairly good in red. The bands highlighting the muscle in his arms as he crossed them didn’t hurt either.

_ Really _ glad he hadn’t said anything.

Sokka clapped his hands together as Katara settled down again. “I believe I was promised food?”

“Finally,” Toph exclaimed, already moving toward the exit. They all followed her out, Momo running after them and jumping up onto Aang’s shoulders.

“I can probably get another necklace in town,” Katara mused as they walked. Her hand briefly touched her neck. “It feels weird not wearing anything,” she admitted.

“Too bad there aren’t any flowers. Aang could’ve just made you another one,” Sokka joked, nudging the airbender with his elbow. Aang blushed a little and Zuko raised his eyebrow, because that  _ definitely _ sounded like a story.

“Twinkle Toes does jewelry now too?” Toph questioned, mirth coloring her tone as Aang blushed deeper. 

“One of my friends taught me how to do it,” he defended, hiding behind Momo’s tail. “Katara was so sad after she lost her necklace a few months ago, so I made another one.”

And there was the guilt again.

“Zuko brought it back eventually,” Katara teased, smiling over at him. “You know, you were actually really close to meeting Bato that day. We’d only parted ways a few minutes before you found us.”

“Wait, Bato?” Zuko asked, stopping in his tracks. The rest of the group stopped ahead of him and looked back toward him.

“Yeah,” Sokka said. “Dad left him at that abbey when he got his burn and we ran into him. He was heading back to a rendezvous with the rest of the fleet when you caught up to us with that giant… mole… thing.”

“Shirshu,” Zuko corrected absently. He’d come within minutes of meeting Bato. He knew without a doubt he wouldn’t have cared about the other man in the slightest. Over the last few weeks, the thought of Bato getting hurt had crossed his mind every time they passed by another ship, and it had caused him no small amount of stress (he couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else get hurt trying to protect him. Not again), but thinking about what could have happened had he been a little faster that day made him feel sick. And he knew Bato had his burn cared for in an abbey, but he hadn’t known  _ which _ abbey. 

Of course it was the one he’d helped destroy. The people there had saved the man that had given Zuko a chance after he’d done nothing but hurt the people around him, and he’d repaid them with nothing but ruin.

“Zuko?” Katara asked worriedly. “Are you alright?”

“Your heart’s going all over the place,” Toph said, frowning.

Zuko swallowed back his pain. “Fine,” he answered, walking forward again. “I don’t think he would’ve liked me back then,” he added quietly. Zuko had been hunting Sokka and Katara, had kidnapped them and held them hostage; Zuko was pretty sure Bato would’ve tried to kill him if he’d been there, and Zuko would’ve fought back just as fiercely. Hakoda had been right to try and protect Bato from him that first night after all it seemed.

“He likes you now,” Sokka insisted, just as quiet.

And that’s exactly why it hurt so much.

The mood was much more subdued as they continued toward the town, but Zuko couldn’t make himself say anything to lighten it.

Once they reached the main street, Zuko hung back a little and they all perked up, taking in the sight. He strongly doubted that any of them had seen the Fire Nation before, and they all looked intrigued as they searched for a stand that was selling accessories.

Aang slowed his pace a little, falling into step with Zuko as the others continued looking around. Momo chirped a little, sniffing in his direction until Zuko leaned away.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Aang asked softly, his wide eyes staring up at him.

“No,” he replied bluntly.

“Oh,” Aang blinked. He didn’t stay deterred for long, though. “Are you sure? You looked really upset back there.”

Zuko sighed sharply, looking away. “I doubt you would understand.”

“Maybe not,” Aang allowed, “but I know sometimes it helps to talk about it anyway.”

Zuko folded his arms, turning his head a little to look at Aang. He was walking on Zuko’s left side and moving in and out of his barely there blind spot with every step.

“You know what I used to be like,” Zuko finally said in a low voice. “I would’ve hurt Bato back then, and I wouldn’t have even cared. He would’ve been nothing more than an obstacle that stood between me catching you.”

Aang hummed quietly, face suddenly seeming a little older with the serious tint it had taken.

“You  _ did _ hurt me, before. And Katara. And Sokka. All of us forgave you for it,” Aang pointed out. “Why is this different?”

_ Because none of you have acted like a father to me. Because I never hurt any of you the way I would’ve hurt him. _

“It’s complicated,” he said instead.

“How so?”

Zuko almost didn’t answer as they kept walking slowly. “Because he was the one person I was sure I’d never hurt.” 

Aang looked up at him again, brow crinkled a little in confusion. “You  _ haven’t  _ hurt him,” he assured Zuko.

“But I would have,” he repeated. 

Aang frowned, looking like he was thinking. “It’s easy to dwell on the past,” he said quietly. “‘What if I had done this?’ ‘What if I  _ hadn’t _ done this?’ But we did what we did, and we didn’t do what we didn’t; there’s no one that can change that. You  _ didn’t _ hurt him. You  _ did _ hurt us, but you also chose to help us, to save me. Would you hurt Bato now?”

“No!” Zuko whispered harshly, looking around to make sure he hadn’t been loud enough to attract attention with his exclamation.

“That’s what matters,” Aang replied. “We all make mistakes.” He dropped his gaze briefly. “The only reason they were with Bato at that point is because I lied to them.”

“You what?” Zuko asked incredulously, unable to hide the shock in his voice.

Aang looked ashamed now. Momo’s ears flattened and he ducked down closer to the airbender’s neck. “There was a message for Bato; a map that told him where to meet with Sokka and Katara's dad. And I thought they were going to leave me to see him again, so… I hid it. It was  _ selfish  _ and  _ wrong, _ and they weren’t even planning on going in the first place, but when I told them what I’d done, they left. I knew exactly how much it meant to them to be able to see their dad again, and I took that choice away from them. They left with Bato because of me. Otherwise, we would’ve been long gone by the time you got there.” Aang looked at him again and Zuko could see the hint of regret in his face.

“We  _ all _ make mistakes,” Aang insisted again. “At least this time, yours is only hypothetical.” He offered a small smile and Zuko didn’t really  _ feel  _ like smiling, but he returned it, his lips just barely tilting up enough to count.

“Thank you,” he said, gaze sliding forward again.

Immediately, Aang brightened again. “Any time, Hotman!”

“What did you just-?”

“Guys, over here,” Sokka called out, waving them over to a booth that Katara and Toph were browsing.

Aang grinned and bolted toward them, leaving Zuko with a half asked question on his tongue. Sokka turned around, grinning brightly at the collection of hair ornaments in front of him. Zuko shook his head, huffing out a silent laugh as he walked over to them.

Katara was paying for the items they’d purchased when he joined them again. She tied a red ribbon around her neck, Toph placed a golden hair band over her bangs, and Sokka was straightening a tie in his hair, a small red Fire Nation symbol on the front of it.

He smiled when Zuko stopped next to him, holding out an identical tie. “I got one for you too,” he explained, dropping it in Zuko’s hand as the shopkeeper moved away from them, already trying to entice more customers to his stand.

_ You will  _ **_fight_ ** _ for your honor. _ His father’s harsh words echoed in his heart.

_ You got your honor back when you chose Aang, _ Sokka’s soft voice argued back.

Zuko had never been allowed to wear a knot before, not like Sokka was now. It had always been a phoenix tail.

He thought of Uncle’s proud smile when he’d told Zuko to go ahead and help Aang, that he would free himself from the crystals; Hakoda’s wide grin and Bato’s softer smile when he’d joined them aboard the stolen Fire Navy ship.

He saw the way Bato always flinched away from his fire, imagined that same cringe and fear tenfold had he met him in the forest that day; Hakoda’s piercing glare, unwilling to trust him with the ones he loved most; his father staring down at him on his knees with nothing but disgust; the pain and sorrow in Uncle’s face as he yelled for him to run.

He knew he should just tie his hair up, he  _ knew _ it would make them stand out less.

But he couldn’t. 

Not yet.

“Keeping my hair down will help hide my scar,” he reasoned, putting the tie in his pocket instead. “It’ll be a lot harder for someone to track ‘the guy with shaggy hair’ than ‘the one with the huge scar over his eye.’ Burns are a lot less common of an injury here than they are in the Earth Kingdom.”

Sokka seemed to accept the explanation easily enough, and they joined the others in the shadow of a nearby building.

“I used to visit my friend Kuzon here a hundred years ago,” Aang explained as Momo shuffled around inside his suit, not slowing down in the slightest at the animal's movements. “So, everyone just follow my lead and stay cool. Or, as they say in the Fire Nation, stay flamin'.” He winked at Katara as he said the phrase, strutting off assuredly before any of them could say so much as a word.

“We’re going to die,” Zuko sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes. The only thing that kept him from dragging Aang back here by his ear and smacking the back of his head was the fact that his impromptu heart-to-heart session had actually reassured him a little.

“Greetings, my good hotman,” Aang declared with the utmost confidence as he walked past a man. 

“Oh, hi… I guess?” he responded as Sokka shrugged. Zuko turned his face away a little as he passed, still paranoid that someone would recognize him despite everything.

As they approached the shop in front of them, however, Aang seemed to deflate a little. “Oh,” he frowned. “We're going to a meat place?”

Sokka turned around to look at him and Zuko could practically see him drooling. “Come on, Aang,” he coaxed, “everyone here eats meat. Even the meat.” Zuko’s eyes followed to where Sokka was pointing at a hippo cow in the middle of the square. It opened its maw wide and ate the fly-ridden meat in front of it straight off the ground.

When he turned away, unable to look any longer, he saw Aang gagging and cringing. Zuko honestly couldn’t blame him. “You guys go ahead,” the airbender offered, sounding a bit put out. “I’ll just get some lettuce out of the garbage.” His dry tone almost made Zuko smile, but he held it back.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come in with us, even if you’re not going to eat?” he asked. It didn’t feel right to leave him out here by himself looking so down.

Aang shuddered, though. “Positive.”

Toph was already walking through the doorway, so Zuko turned around and followed.

“What can I get for you?” the man at the counter asked. He leaned forward on his arm and stared down at them.

“Five sticks of whatever’s fresh, please,” Sokka said eagerly, stepping forward.

Zuko frowned. “I thought-”  _ Crap, I can’t say Aang’s name in here. _ “-uh. Your little brother didn’t want any?” he stuttered out.

Sokka barely even glanced back at him. “What? I’m getting two for me.”

Zuko slapped him, and glared right back at him when he turned around, rubbing at his arm where the hit had landed.

“We’ll take four,” Katara interjected politely. The man was watching on, amused, but took the money and handed them four sticks a moment later.

“You kids enjoy,” he called out as they moved further into the shop and sat down. They were a few other customers chatting towards the front, but the spot they were in was a little quieter and no one was around them.

“What was that for?” Sokka grumbled before taking a bite of his food.

“We need to save our money,” Zuko glared. “Unless you plan on settling down and getting a job, that’s a finite resource that we literally can’t afford to waste.” 

“What’s got you so uptight?” Toph questioned, eating her food with just as much gusto as Sokka.

Zuko turned his glare to her, content in the fact that she couldn’t see it anyways.

“I would prefer  _ not  _ having to deal with starvation again if I can help it,” he bit out. If they blew through their money, Zuko knew he would do whatever it took to feed them, regardless of what it cost him. He’d rather drown in Uncle’s disappointment than watch his friends’ well-fitted clothing become baggy as they lost stored up fat and muscle mass. Aang in particular had a lot of baby fat still clinging to his face, and Zuko would let the guilt of stealing eat him alive if it meant that he didn’t have to watch those cheeks slowly hollow out.

Katara lowered her stick, looking at him with a pinched brow. “When were you starving?” she asked incredulously.

Zuko turned away from her concerned eyes and the way Sokka and Toph had now joined her in frowning at him.

“I was a refugee,” he said bitterly. “We didn’t exactly have a lot in the way of money.” He could still remember the pain in his stomach as he floated on that piece of driftwood for the third week in a row, the strength it had taken to give his uncle the fish he’d managed to catch, claiming he’d already eaten another one; watching his uncle wither away in front of him, losing more weight than Zuko thought could possibly be healthy, had frighten Zuko more than the prospect of his own death at the time. The days he’d spent away from Uncle on the back of an ostrich horse he’d stolen from Song’s family had been almost as bad, the sweltering heat beating down on his back and his vision blurred from the lack of water.

“I’m sorry,” Sokka said quietly. Zuko looked up to see him staring at Zuko with sad eyes. “I didn’t think-” he stopped himself, looking away from Zuko. Katara and Toph stayed quiet, Katara looking between them apprehensively while Toph frowned at the table. 

“I didn’t-” Zuko tried, before cutting himself off with a sigh. Why was he so bad at this? “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” he apologized softly.

“No, you’re right,” Sokka argued, looking down at the stick he still held in his hand. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“I understand. When we’d come to port after weeks of nothing but ship rations, I was usually the first in line to get a bite of real food,” he admitted.

Sokka gave him a weak smile and began eating again, noticeably without the same enthusiasm as before.

Sokka wouldn’t meet his eye again for the rest of the meal.

And here Zuko had thought he couldn’t possibly get any angrier with himself.

They got up quietly after finishing their meal in silence. 

He had also thought that the day couldn’t get any worse after that stellar conversation, but he was proved wrong once again when no Aang greeted them as they left the building. Zuko craned his neck, looking around to see if Aang was off pestering more innocent people, but he couldn’t catch sight of him anywhere.

“Toph,” he asked, keeping his voice as level as possible. “Where’s Aang?”

Her head was tilted down and to the side as if she were listening to something intently. “I… I don’t know,” she admitted, her cloudy eyes widening behind the bangs that hung in her face.

Sokka met his gaze now, his eyes wide and panicked.

***

They split up, Zuko staying with Toph, and searched as much of the town as possible without drawing the wrong kind of attention to themselves. They loitered around outside the jail, both hoping and dreading that Toph would recognize Aang’s ‘fancy footwork’ within its walls. 

She didn’t.

The sun was high in the sky when they ran into the Water Tribe siblings again, and the lack of a short kid with them told Zuko they’d been about as successful as he and Toph had been.

“We could find him in any of the shops along the main street,” Katara reported, hands worriedly toying with the section of her hair that hung over her shoulders. 

“I couldn’t see him in the jail either, I don’t think,” Toph replied, crossing her arms tightly. 

Sokka’s eyes were still sweeping across the street, as if hoping Aang would magically appear this time if he just looked hard enough.

“Where else could he be?” Zuko asked. He tried to think of the few towns he’d visited and seen from a distance with his mother. There was always a main thoroughfare with businesses, always a law enforcement district and housing, but they couldn’t exactly search through every house hoping to find the Avatar.

Zuko certainly had the capability, but it would be far more difficult in the daytime and would raise a lot more questions than they could currently afford.

They split off again, worry present on each of their faces. The sun got lower and lower in the sky as they searched and Zuko considered throwing caution to the wind anyways, but Toph pulled him away and they trudged back to the cave together.

“If we can’t find Twinkle Toes, we should at least be here if he comes back. Otherwise he might run off looking for  _ us." _

It made sense, but that didn’t mean that Zuko liked it any more.

Toph sat down hard on the ground as soon as they entered the cave. Appa rumbled deep in his throat as the ground shook just a bit from the impact, his head lifting up blearily. Zuko sighed, and walked over to the bison. Appa rumbled quietly again when Zuko buried his hand in the thick fur, his head eventually joining the hand in laying against Appa’s side.

_ I knew I shouldn’t have left him alone. _

He knew, more than most, exactly how much trouble the Avatar could get into when left to his own devices,  _ why _ hadn’t he pushed for Aang to come with them? He’d rather deal with a sullen kid than a missing one.

Thoughts of the Pohuai Stronghold crossed his mind in the artificial darkness of Appa’s fur. Aang had been alone then, too. And Zuko had ended the Blue Spirit for Uncle, watched the mask sink to the bottom of the lake until he couldn’t have taken it back even if he’d wanted to, but he was beginning to fear he’d need to resurrect him once more. Seeing Aang chained up and terrified had brought a discomfort Zuko hadn’t known how to address at the time, but thinking about it now made his stomach twist violently.

Fears and worry swirled around and around in his mind until he couldn’t take it anymore and he shoved away from Appa harshly. Toph’s head was already looking in his direction; he knew his heart was beating much harder than normal.

“I’m going to gather firewood,” he said briskly, already moving out of the cave.

When he returned, wood and stones in hand, Sokka and Katara were back. He didn’t see Aang with them.

“We couldn’t find him,” Sokka said anyway. He was pacing back and forth across the length of the cave.

Katara was sitting in front of Appa, rubbing the darker arrow on his head, eyes still just as troubled as they had been the last time he’d seen her.

“The sun will be going down soon, and we need to eat,” Zuko said, instead of commenting on his own failure to find Aang. That seemed to be the story of his life.

He dropped the wood onto the dirt and knelt down next to it. He’d grabbed a few rocks as well and now arranged them in a wide circle. He’d always been the one sent to gather them when he was travelling with Uncle, and the repetitive task soothed him with its ease as much as it made his heart ache for what he was missing.

Sokka roughly grabbed his boomerang and walked out of the cave.

“Sokka, I can get the fish-” Katara began to offer, but Sokka stormed off without a word and her voice trailed off into nothing.

“He just… needs a minute to himself,” Zuko mumbled, placing the sticks in the center of the rocks.

“I know,” Katara sighed, pulling her knees up to her chest. One of her hands trailed absently over her thigh where her mother’s necklace was now bound.

Zuko lit the fire, feeling his anger and fear fueling the flames. 

He made sure it was a slower and more gradual process than he’d normally do when he was with Uncle. He knew how afraid Appa could be of fire sometimes.

He’d messed up everything else today, but he refused to scare the bison too.

While Katara went about setting up the spit so that they could cook and Toph stayed with her head tilted down watching for Aang, or anyone else’s, approach, Zuko left to go find Sokka. There were two fish lying still on the shore behind him. 

“Do you want any help?” he asked quietly, stopping just out of reach of them.

Sokka froze for a second at the sound of his voice, but didn’t turn around. 

“No,” Sokka muttered, head lowered toward the ground.

Zuko dithered around awkwardly for a second, trying to think of what Uncle would say if he were here; he’d never been great at understanding his old proverbs.

Eventually, he decided that direct was better than nothing. “What’s really going on? I know you’re just as scared as the rest of us, but this is more than that. You've been weird since we found Aang yesterday.” For a minute, he thought Sokka was ignoring him, refusing to answer.

“I feel useless,” Sokka replied bitterly, still staring out into the open sea. “What happens if we can’t find him? What happens if we just lost our one chance at winning this war because I was too blinded by my stomach to think about how leaving Aang alone in the middle of the  _ Fire Nation _ is a horrible idea?”

“Sokka, you couldn’t have known-” Zuko tried, but that just made Sokka even more agitated.

“Except I  _ did _ know,” Sokka bit back, a new edge to his words. “I knew exactly how much of a trouble magnet Aang is, I  _ knew _ he doesn't eat meat, and I  _ knew _ I should’ve protected him! What  _ good  _ am I if I can’t protect the people I care about!” Sokka yelled desperately, flinging himself around to finally face Zuko. He could see the pain in Sokka’s eyes now as clear as day.

“Sokka, this wasn’t your fault,” Zuko argued, pausing as the last time he’d seen Sokka so upset came to mind. “And you  _ did _ protect him,” he continued, a little quieter. “In the caves. He wouldn’t even  _ be  _ here right now if you hadn’t been so quick to grab him and get him out of there.”

Sokka scoffed. “He nearly died because I couldn’t help; because I’m not a bender like the rest of you.”

“Hey,” Zuko barked, taking a step forward, “you know that’s not true. You’re better at tactics than all the rest of us  _ combined. _ Your value isn’t determined by your bending.” The words were true for Sokka, and there was no way he could know how much of a gift that truly was.  _ You were lucky to be born. _ “And you  _ didn’t fail,” _ he insisted, ignoring the ghost of his father’s words.

It was quiet between them for a moment, only the sound of the waves lapping against the shore at their feet filling the air.

“He isn’t the only person I didn’t save,” Sokka whispered miserably. “That wasn’t the first time I just stood back and  _ watched  _ as I lost someone I loved.”

Zuko felt his brief frustration and anger slip away. “I’m sure it wasn’t your fault,” he replied softly. “You’re too hard on yourself.”

“No, it was,” Sokka corrected lifelessly. “Her dad asked me to protect her; I had her hand in mine, and she  _ still  _ died. I didn’t even  _ try  _ to stop it.” His voice broke and he turned away, blinking furiously. Zuko caught sight of the tears gathering in Sokka’s eyes before they were out of view.

Zuko was at a loss, unsure of what to do. “Who?” he eventually asked.

“Her name was Yue,” he whispered, voice shaking. “She was the princess of the Northern Water Tribe. The moon spirit gave her life when she was born, and when Zhao killed it in the oasis, she gave that life back. I was  _ right there, _ and I still lost her.” His shoulders were tense as he grabbed his arms, folding them tightly to his body.

Zuko thought about the figure he’d seen over the moon while they searched for Aang not two days ago. He’d thought he’d imagined it, the worry and lack of sleep getting to him, but those haunting words came back to him. 

_ Take care of him. _

He was failing as spectacularly at that as he had at everything else in his life.

“She led us to Aang that night,” Zuko guessed numbly. “That’s why you’ve been so… distant.”

“I felt so  _ guilty,” _ Sokka confirmed. “I couldn’t protect her, I couldn’t protect Aang or even  _ Suki _ when she actually needed it; why would I  _ ever _ think I could protect you?”

Zuko’s brows furrowed, even as his heart ached for Sokka. “Who’s Suki?” He was almost afraid to know at this point. How many people had Sokka lost?

“She’s one of the Kyoshi Warriors. That’s how your sister got into Ba Sing Se. Her and her friends were wearing their armor; their face paint. I don’t know how they got it, if Suki’s okay or if she was-” he stopped himself and took a breath, and Zuko knew the feeling. “She told me she could protect herself, that’s  _ why _ I-” He stopped again, but this time it had the tone of someone who had said something they shouldn’t have.

“Why you  _ what?” _ Zuko questioned slowly.

Sokka turned around again slowly, only meeting Zuko’s gaze hesitantly.

“She… She helped us get across the Serpent’s Pass. Before she left, I- I kissed her,” Sokka admitted and Zuko’s heart froze a little. He hoped Toph wasn’t listening too carefully.

“You  _ kissed _ her?” Zuko whispered harshly. At the Serpent’s Pass; right before they got to Ba Sing Se. “And how long did you wait between that and kissing me, a  _ week?” _

“No!” Sokka yelled back, sounding hurt. “It wasn’t like that! I don’t- we didn’t- we never decided what we are, we kissed and then she left again!”

“You knew she might’ve been in trouble when I got thrown down in those caves with you, didn’t you?” he demanded. “What was I then, a  _ rebound?” _

“No!” Sokka yelled again, more upset than hurt now. “I care about you just as much!”

“But not more?” Zuko asked cruelly, knowing it was more than a little unfair but not caring. “If she were here right now, would you still be dating me?”

It was only a split second of hesitation, but Zuko could see the indecision in the way Sokka’s gaze faltered. He didn’t know.

“Zuko, I-”

Zuko turned his back to him, his hand thrown up against Sokka’s words as he walked back toward the cave.

Zuko had never been afraid of Sokka before, not even when they were actively fighting against each other. He’d respected him, yes, but never truly feared being hurt by him.

But there was a difference between being hurt by an enemy and being hurt by someone you loved, someone you trusted.

Zuko was used to both, but one was a lot more painful in his experience.

***

When Toph perked up a little while later as the sun began setting, Zuko almost didn’t care.

_ That’s a lie, _ a part of him whispered, and it was right. He’d been racked with fear for most of the day, and he knew the others had been just as terrified. He was beyond relieved that Aang was probably okay, even if they now needed to leave immediately.

But he was still reeling from his conversation with Sokka. He had walked silently into the cave not long after Zuko had, tossing three fish to Katara before leaving again. He’d come when Katara called for dinner and they had all eaten in silence with only the crackling of the fire to fill the void.

Sokka had sat between Toph and his sister. He’d tried to catch Zuko’s eyes exactly once, and when Zuko had glared at him, Sokka had laid down on the floor, gaze fixed on the ceiling.

He knew Toph wanted to ask about what had happened between them, but he wasn’t ready to talk about it. She could listen to his heart all she wanted; it wasn’t going to tell her any more about what he was feeling than it told him.

There was a puff of dirt at the mouth of the cave as Aang landed lightly on the ground, Momo jumping off of his shoulder. Katara immediately sat up.  _ “Where _ have you  been?” she demanded. “We've been worried sick!”

As Aang walked further into the firelight, Zuko could see the way his clothes and face were stained with something dark. Only the huge grin on the airbender's face kept Zuko from panicking at the thought that it could be blood or ash.

Aang reached up and began untying his headband. “I got invited to play with some kids after school,” he explained easily.

He heard Sokka shoot to his feet behind him. “After  _ what?!” _ he yelled, disbelief clear in his voice. 

Zuko couldn’t help but begrudgingly agree. 

“I enrolled in a Fire Nation school,” Aang said, still just as relaxed. “And I'm going back tomorrow.”

If he hadn’t been so upset with Sokka, he would’ve at least cracked a smile at the gobsmacked look on his face. “Enrolled in  _ what?!” _ he cried, before falling back and banging his head against the floor of the cave. He groaned as his hands flew up to cover his face. 

Toph sighed and lifted up seats for all of them out of the ground. Aang stared in confusion at Sokka before taking a seat next to Katara. Sokka pushed himself off the floor and sat down on her other side, his arms crossed and a disapproving look on his face.

He recalled how panicked and upset Sokka had been with Aang’s disappearance, and though Sokka wasn’t winning any popularity contests with him at the moment, he still empathized with his worry, as well as his anger and the hidden relief that their worry had apparently been in vain. 

“Aang, I'm trying to be mature and not immediately shoot down your idea,” Sokka began, a forced calm in his voice, “but it sounds ... really terrible.” Some of the annoyance Zuko knew they were all feeling shown through in his last two words.

“Yeah, we got our outfits. What do you need to go to  _ school  _ for?” Toph argued mockingly. She’d been taught by private tutors, too, Zuko remembered. They were both of the stance that real world learning was far more valuable.

“Every minute I'm in that classroom, I'm learning new things about the Fire Nation,” Aang replied passionately. “I already have a picture of Fire Lord Ozai. And here's one that I made out of noodles!” 

Zuko lunged forward, ripping the first picture out of Aang’s hands as he lowered it in favor of showing off his noodle portrait. His father’s glaring eyes stared back at him from the ornate scroll. He couldn’t tell if the picture was dated or if his father just hadn’t changed, because he looked exactly the same as Zuko remembered him.

His breath came out shaky as he stared and he quickly tossed it over the flames as if it had been the one to burn him, rather than the man whose image it held.

He felt a vicious blend of satisfaction, guilt, and fear as he watched it blacken and shrivel up among the flames.

“You okay Sparky?” Toph asked carefully. She'd probably felt his heart and breathing go wild the second Aang had pulled out the scroll.

“Fine,” he bit out roughly, pointedly not looking at anyone.

Or the fire. 

After a beat of silence, Sokka spoke up again, quieter than before. “Aang, I get it, but I still think it's too dangerous.”

Zuko looked up just in time to see the brief flash of sadness on Aang's face before it disappeared. “Sokka, when am I ever going to get a chance like this again?” he protested. 

Sokka’s eyes glanced over at him briefly before turning to Aang again. “You could just ask Zuko?” he said, but he sounded a little unsure.

Zuko was only a little offended. Just because he was pissed with Sokka, didn’t mean he was going to suddenly turn his back on them. His reaction to his father’s portrait proved that he couldn’t go back to him right now, even  _ if  _ he knew his father would welcome him with open arms. 

He’d chosen his uncle, and he would stand by that choice.

Though he did mildly appreciate the fact that Sokka seemed hesitant to volunteer him for things without asking beforehand.

Aang rolled his eyes. “Zuko knows things about his country and his family, but that’s completely different from what these kids are learning!”

“Aang,” Sokka sighed.

Zuko could see how badly Aang wanted to stay. 

He remembered Aang’s too wise face in the market, the way he’d immediately taken on the responsibility of saving them on the ship just a few hours after waking up from a life threatening wound, and the giant grin on his face when he’d walked into the cave after spending the day playing games.

Sokka’s words in the tent that first morning after Ba Sing Se came back to him too, not for the first time.

_ He’s still just a kid. And he hasn’t had the chance to just  _ **_be_ ** _ a kid in a long time… _

“He’s right,” Zuko cut in, crossing his arms as all eyes turned to him. “I was taught by palace tutors; I never went to a formal school. The curriculum I was taught was specifically tailored by my-” the word  _ father _ caught in his throat as his gaze skipped over the fire. “the Firelord.”

“See,” Aang implored, “even Zuko agrees!”

He could tell that Sokka wasn’t completely sold on the idea still, but he deflated in the face of Zuko’s support.

“Alright. We’ll stay a few more days,” he agreed quietly.

Aang jumped up joyfully, his arms extended into the air. “Flamey-o, hotman!”

“Hold it!” Zuko growled. Aang immediately grounded himself again, his hands stiff at his sides.

“Just because you were fine  _ this time, _ doesn’t mean you can make a habit of running off without telling us,” he glared.

“But I didn’t!” Aang protested, eyes wide and pleading. “These guards came over right after you guys left and thought I was playing hooky! Apparently this is a school uniform,” Aang explained, looking down at his clothes.

Katara sighed, smiling. “That sounds like just our luck.” She stood up and held out her hand. “Come on, I’ll help you clean your clothes for tomorrow.” 

“One more thing before you leave,” Zuko said, causing Aang to pause and look at him once more.  _ “Please _ tell me you didn’t tell them your name was Aang.”

Aang looked a little offended. “Of course not! I said my name was Kuzon.”

A name as dated as the kid Aang had borrowed it from, but a Fire Nation name nonetheless. “Alright. What about the rest of you?”

Katara frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

Zuko scoffed. “No offense, but your names don’t exactly scream ‘Fire Nation.’ Toph, you can probably keep your name and just pass for a colony kid-”

“That’s what I did!” Aang interjected, looking proud of himself.

“-but the rest of us need cover names too.”  _ Especially me, _ he thought.

“Well, what do _you_ think our names should be?” Katara asked. “I mean, you know more about it than we do.”

Zuko thought for a moment. “You could probably pass for a Nozomi,” he said to her, and she nodded. “Sokka, you can be Soza; close enough that if we slip, we can bluff our way through it.”

“What about you?” Toph asked, leaning back against the boulder she’d propped up behind her. 

“Lee.” A thrill of sorrow shot through his heart, reminding him of the last time he’d used the name. He figured he deserved that. “And Aang? No one has said Flamey-o  _ or  _ Hotman in the last century. In fact, I’m not entirely sure they said it in  _ your _ century either.”

Aang pouted at him and Katara giggled as she led him out of the cave. Zuko was pretty sure the poor kid was in for the tongue lashing of a lifetime once Katara had him alone.

Zuko sighed and put his head in his hands as soon as they were out of sight. 

Agni, he wasn’t strong enough for this.

“So. Why is Sokka acting like you’re going to kick him if he looks at you?” Toph spoke up. Zuko’s head shot up, but glancing around, he couldn’t see Sokka anywhere.

He sighed again, more forceful this time. He would tell her to mind her own business if he didn’t know she would just beat him for it and ask again. 

“Trouble in paradise?” she teased.

“Don’t,” he replied sharply, and she held her hands up in surrender. “Do you know Suki?” he asked.

Her small wince told him all he needed to know.

“Yeah,” he scoffed. “That was a fun surprise to have sprung on me while I’m half out of my mind worrying about Aang.”

“You know,” she began, sounding a little unsure. “I had a crush on Sokka, too.”

Zuko shot to his feet, his head whipping around.  _ “What?!” _ He forced his eyes closed and held back a groan. 

“Shut up and listen,” Toph demanded, swinging her feet back to the ground and straightening up.

“What, are you going to tell me that  _ Aang  _ likes him too, now?”

“No  _ dunderhead, _ now sit down and shut up.” 

Against his better judgement, Zuko did.

“I had to watch those two flirt the whole way across the Serpent’s Pass, so I know how you feel. But you wanna know something else?” she asked, waiting for Zuko to actually nod exasperatedly before continuing. “Sokka was pretty distant with her the whole time. I don’t know why, but I’ve never seen him act like that with you the whole time you’ve been with us. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” She got to her feet, having apparently said her piece, and began walking further into the cave. “Besides, between Twinkle Toes disappearing every ten seconds and Sugar Queen losing her mind over it, we have enough stress to go around. Don’t add to it where it’s not needed,” she threatened.

With that, she brought a section of the floor up to make a small tent-like structure for herself. She lifted another section up and propped her feet on it as she laid down, and Zuko took that to mean their conversation was now finished.

Zuko sighed yet again and headed for his own bedroll. He knew she’d meant well, but Toph hadn’t seen Sokka's hesitation. If Sokka could honestly tell him that he no longer had any romantic feeling for Suki, Zuko would accept it without a second thought. 

But he didn’t think Sokka could.

How long had they been in Ba Sing Se? He doubted it could have been any longer than a month. So he what? Pined after Suki for a few days, kissed her, and then turned around a couple weeks later and started dating Zuko? Was it just because Suki wasn’t available? Did he even  _ like _ Zuko in the first place?

He brought his hands over his face again, aware that Toph would hear him if he were to groan.

What  _ was  _ there to like about him anyways? The whole time he’d been with Sokka, it had felt like it was too good to be true. Sokka had been happy, but was that just because he had been reunited with his dad, rather than anything to do with Zuko? 

Zuko, the disgrace. 

Zuko, the outcast. 

Zuko, the grumpy jerk that couldn’t have a nice conversation if his life depended on it.

Zuko, whose own father couldn’t stand the sight of him.

Zuko, whose mother had left him behind.

Zuko, who had left the one decent person in his life behind as he ran like a coward.

No. He didn’t know what Sokka could have possibly seen in him.

Being the stop-gap for a noble warrior and a selfless princess sounded much more likely.

***

The next day passed quietly after Aang left for school. Zuko set out soon after to start collecting clams for lunch from along the shore.

The task reminded him again of summers spent with Lu Ten when Azula was still too little to run around after him. His cousin had known all the tricks to finding the mollusks and they’d spent hours digging down into the wet sand and wading in the shallows looking for them.

As he began shelling his haul, Zuko found himself missing Lu Ten. Not for the first time, he wished his cousin were still alive. He looked down at the detailed knife in his hand; ironically enough, his uncle's gift was the one possession he’d been carrying with him that day in Ba Sing Se. The earthbenders at the palace apparently hadn’t expected a bender to be carrying a weapon and hadn’t searched him, otherwise they probably would’ve found it where it was tucked away carefully among his robes.

_ Never give up without a fight. _

Zuko had lived his life by those words, struggling to follow the advice of an uncle who hadn’t yet known true loss.

Reading them now they just left him feeling empty.

Was it better to fight for Sokka? Or should he just cut his losses now?

Shockingly enough, the clams didn’t have any answers for him, so he grabbed the buckets of meat and took them to Katara for rinsing. She was a lot quicker with it than he or Lu Ten had ever been.

She shooed him away while she cooked it, and he let her, knowing that it wouldn’t take too long; it was meant to be an early supper that Aang could eat with them when he got back. She’d apparently gotten him to agree not to run off after school again today and he should be showing up any time within the next hour.

Sokka called after him when Zuko started to head out of the cave again.

“Can I talk to you?” he asked shyly once he’d jogged over to him.

Zuko’s jaw tensed a little, but he nodded. Sokka followed him as he left this time. Zuko took them to a little hill not far from the cave, but far enough that Toph wouldn't bug them.

He crossed his arms and stared out toward roofs of the village that peaked out occasionally, a splash of red among the brown and gray.

“What did you need?” Zuko asked neutrally. 

The wind whispered through the grass at their feet.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Sokka said quietly. Zuko glanced over at him to see him staring sadly at Zuko. “I didn’t know how I felt about everything and I didn’t think it was fair to dump that on you without figuring it out first.”

“It wasn’t  _ fair _ to not tell me that you were already in a sort-of relationship when you kissed me for the first time?” Zuko repeated, eyebrow raised. “And every time after that?”

Sokka’s cheeks darkened a little and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t think about it like that,” he admitted. “I  _ do  _ care about Suki, but I care about you too, Zuko.”

“But do you care about me enough that you would still want to be with me if she were travelling with us? Or did you just  _ pretend  _ so that I would help you with Azula?”

It was a thought that had briefly crossed his mind last night as he tossed and turned. He’d felt ashamed for thinking it immediately after, but it wouldn’t let go of him once it appeared. He didn’t think Sokka would do something as cruel as that, but no one had ever suspected Azula of being as manipulative as she was when she was younger either.

Sokka looked near tears. “No!” he shouted. “I wouldn’t-” he stopped, staring at Zuko with a hurt expression. “Do you really think that’s why I did that?” he whispered.

Zuko turned away again, unable to stand the look in his eyes any longer. “You’re a tactician,” he said instead. “More than anyone, you’ve proven that you know how to use all the resources at your disposal; even the broken ones that no one thinks are worth anything.”

Sokka’s sharp breath let him know that he’d maybe gone too far.

Either that, or he’d hit right on the mark.

He couldn’t tell without looking at Sokka’s face, and he couldn’t bring himself to turn around. He didn’t know if Sokka was reacting with anger or pain or indignation; he heard nothing but the wind.

“Hey Zu- I mean, Lee!” Aang called from behind him. “What are you doing out here?”

Zuko finally turned around. Sokka was nowhere in sight.

“Nothing,” he answered. He swallowed down the shame and sorrow that had made its home at the back of his throat. “Katara is cooking. It should be done soon.”

Aang whooped happily, already running off toward the cave. Even injured, he jumped higher and ran faster than anyone Zuko had ever met.

Zuko sucked in a deep breath, closing his eyes and focusing on the feel of the wind against his face, the smell of the ocean in the air. He hadn’t mediated in three days. He’d gone far longer than that in the past few months.

So why did he feel so much more off balance now than he ever had before?

He sat down in the grass. He’d skip dinner today.

He’d gone far longer without food, too.

And he’d rather be hungry than have to see Sokka right now.

At least hunger was a pain he knew how to deal with.

***

By the time he finally gave up, the sky had begun to take on a purple tint. He shook off the dew that had begun collecting on his shoulders as the temperature lowered with the sun and stood up. He looked around as he entered the cave, not seeing anyone but Appa. He clutched his dagger in his hands as his eyes swept over the area more carefully. The fire was still burning.

“Hello?” he called out quietly, backing up until his back was almost touching the wall.

“Over here,” he heard Toph call out from somewhere behind Appa.

He relaxed a little, the tension sliding off his shoulders. If Toph was calm, the other's probably just left for a run into town or something.

He told himself that it didn’t hurt that no one had said anything to him before they'd left.

Sokka probably wanted to see him as little as Zuko could stomach the thought of seeing Sokka.

“Aang got in trouble with the school’s headmaster,” she informed him as Zuko walked to Appa's other side. She was currently laying down on one of Appa’s legs, her feet planted firmly on the floor of the cave. “Sokka and Katara went with him pretending to be his parents.”

_ “What?!” _ he shouted. He’d  _ just _ started to relax.

“Hey!” she yelled back, frowning. “Don’t yell at me, I’m just the messenger! Twinkle Toes is the one causing all the ruckus.”

Zuko groaned, facepalming. Were their lives this stressful  _ all _ the time? Or was it just because he was here?

“What in  _ Agni’s  _ name made them think that was a good idea?”

Toph shrugged unhelpfully. 

Zuko blew out a breath, trying to get control of his temper. They would come running in at any moment and they would be leaving; he'd need to gather everything together so they could be ready to go. Zuko didn't think he would particularly miss this town; it had brought him nothing but unpleasant memories.

“Who lit a fire under your pants?” Toph asked as he rushed around, rolling up his bedroll.

“Ha ha,” he mocked sullenly.  _ “Aang, _ apparently,” he answered. Figured. He couldn’t have at least wait until they'd all slept before booting them out of town.

He’d just finished moving all of their sleeping gear onto Appa’s saddle when footsteps approached the cave.

Zuko renewed his grip on his knife, but Toph did nothing besides continue lounging, so he guessed it was the missing three members of their party.

Sure enough, Aang walked in looking put out. Momo jumped off of his shoulder at the entrance. 

When Sokka followed with a beard glued to his chin and Katara with her hair up in buns looking like she was near the end of a pregnancy, however, Zuko had to shove his head into his bedroll to muffle another groan.

He was way too drained for this.

“That settles it!” Sokka yelled, his voice much deeper than it normally was. “No more school for you, young man!”

“I’m not ready to leave yet,” Aang argued. “I'm having  _ fun  _ for once, just being a  _ normal kid.” _ The sound of a pebble being kicked echoed softly in the cave. “You don't know what it's like, Sokka. You get to be normal all the time!”

“Ha, ha,” Toph sang gleefully.

Part of Zuko cringed at that.  _ I’m not a bender like the rest of you. _

But then again, hadn’t he said worse to Sokka just a few hours ago?

“Listen guys, those kids at school are the future of the Fire Nation,” Aang said earnestly. “If we want to change this place for the better, we  _ need  _ to show them a little taste of freedom.”

“What could you  _ possibly  _ do for a country of depraved little fire monsters?” Sokka protested.

And that wiped away all of the sympathy he’d felt.

“Good to know how you feel,” he shot back irritably, straightening up to glare at Sokka from the saddle.

Sokka’s eyes had widened and he didn’t think the other boy had known that Zuko was there, but that just made it worse.

_ Is this how he always talks when I’m not in the room? _

“I didn’t-” Sokka sad softly, before his expression hardened. “You know what? Maybe I  _ did _ mean it like that, because that’s what they  _ are.” _ He turned back to look at Aang, pointing his thumb in the general direction of the town. “All of those kids back there that you’re all  _ buddy buddy  _ with now are going to grow up thinking that this war is a  _ good _ thing; they’re going to grow up to become soldiers and they’re going to keep conquering innocent towns and cities.”

“That’s exactly why I need to show them otherwise!” Aang yelled, throwing his hands up in the air. “How are they ever going to think any different if no one points that out to them?”

Zuko thought about how much he’d had to see to even begin thinking that maybe his father was wrong. He didn’t have much hope in Aang’s limited influence on them, but if Sokka was going to be so strongly against it, then he would happily help Aang try.

“He raises a good question. Or would you rather just write them all off as expendable resources? An unfortunate cost of war?” he asked coldly. 

_ But the forty-first is entirely new recruits. How do you expect them to defeat a powerful Earth Kingdom battalion? _

**_I don’t._ **

Sokka groaned. “You  _ know _ that’s not what I meant!”

“Then why not at least let him try?”

Sokka’s glare intensified. “Fine.," he muttered darkly. "Aang? What’s your oh so brilliant plan to show them that they’ve been fed false propaganda and prejudice their entire lives?”

Aang smiled. “I’m gonna throw them: a secret dance party!” He tapped his feet a little and threw out his arms to emphasize his point.

Zuko held back his sigh, but only just barely.

“Go to your room!” Sokka yelled in his deepened voice, pointing toward the back of the cave.

Aang glumly obeyed, Toph scoffing and following him. Katara looked uncomfortably between him and Sokka, who was back to glaring at him with his arms crossed. Zuko had subconsciously copied the movement.

“Why don’t I give you two a minute?” she asked weakly, shuffling off to pull the blankets out from where they'd been shoved between her skirts and pants.

He’d been wondering where on earth they could’ve put those.

Toph pointedly sealed off the entrance to their offshoot after Katara joined them.

Zuko huffed, turning away and sliding off of Appa’s back.

“So do you actually think this is a good idea, or are you just siding with Aang to spite me?” Sokka challenged.

“Why can’t it be both,” he muttered. 

“Zuko, be serious!” Sokka cried.

“Oh,  _ I _ need to be serious?” Zuko replied disbelievingly. “This coming from  _ you?” _

Sokka flinched a little, but didn’t give any ground. “The best possible outcome of this is that those kids have a fun little night and then we disappear from their lives forever,” he pointed out. “The worst? Well, there’s a lot more ‘worst case scenarios’ than there are good.”

“What, you think they can’t change? That they’re destined to become cogs in a war machine just because they were never taught anything different, and even if they were, it wouldn’t matter? They’re always going to be  _ depraved little fire monsters?” _

“I didn’t-” Sokka yelled again, cutting himself off with a growl. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t thinking before I spoke, okay? Is that what you want to hear?”

“Again:  _ good to know what you actually think," _ Zuko spat out, his eyes narrowing. "Is this how you’ve always talked when I’m not around? Well,  _ sorry  _ for forcing you to censor yourself for so long, and around the men from your tribe, no less. I’m sure you wished you could’ve joined in more before we left.”

“Well have you stopped to think that maybe we have a good  _ reason _ for thinking like that for so long?” Sokka fumed. “News flash, the Fire Nation is  _ bad. _ You and your uncle realizing that doesn’t make up for the fact that nobody else in your country has!”

Zuko bristled, both at the mention of his uncle and the insult to his people. “It’s not their fault that they’ve had ruler after ruler pushing them to fight!”

“It doesn’t change the fact that  _ your _ people have hurt so many others! You know the South Pole used to look a whole lot like the North? That we used to have just as many benders instead of  _ just  _ my sister? I’ll give you three guesses on what happened in the last hundred years or so to change  _ that,” _ Sokka mocked angrily, his hands clenched into fists at his side.

“So I guess you plan on just getting rid of us all after the war is over, then, if we’re so irredeemable?” Zuko shot back, not letting the shame he felt at Sokka’s words show on his face.

_ “No, _ because unlike your grandparents,  _ I _ know that genocide is  _ bad!” _ Sokka’s hands were shaking now and his eyes were glistening. “You didn’t have to see Aang when he visited the air temples again.  _ You _ didn’t have to see the way he sobbed over his guardian’s century old skeleton!  _ You didn’t have to watch as he nearly killed us all because of how much it hurt to know that everyone he loved was dead!” _

The words rang off the walls around them. So did Sokka’s stuttering breath as tears streamed down his cheeks. They collected in his beard and Sokka ripped it off, scrubbing his shaking arm over his face as he sniffed.

“So sorry if I’m a little skeptical about  _ your people _ turning out as the good guys,” he said, his voice a little hoarse.

Zuko knew Aang was right about the kids being the future; any real change would have to come through them. So why did he feel like he was the bad guy for defending them?

Zuko blinked away his own tears before they could fall. “You should be angrier at me for that than them,” he replied quietly. “They had nothing to do with it.”

_ And if I can change, why can’t they? _ he didn’t say. He wasn’t so sure anymore that Sokka wouldn’t just laugh at him if he did.

Sokka just deflated. “I should,” he whispered. “I should be  _ so _ furious with you. For everything.” Zuko thought back to what he’d said just a few hours before, without even the courtesy of looking Sokka in the eye as he did. “Unfortunately for me, I care about you.”

_ Unfortunately. _ It  _ was _ unfortunate; Zuko didn’t know how to do anything but hurt the people that loved him.

That was the problem with trusting someone. You let your guard down around them which meant that they knew exactly where to aim their punches to make it hurt.

It only made him feel worse that this time, he was the one punching just as much as he was getting punched.

His sister would be so proud that he’d been paying attention.

“I’ll go along with this for Aang. Not because I think it’ll actually change anything.”

With that, Sokka left the cave again. 

Zuko was pretty sure the moon must have risen by now.

***

“I still can't believe we're having a dance party,” he heard Sokka say from the front of the cave. He’d come back in not long ago after Toph started earthbending to get the cave ready for the party Aang had apparently already planned for that same night. Zuko wasn't sure why he was so surprised that Aang hadn't thought to run his idea by them _before_ inviting the entire student body over. 

All traces of their conversation were now gone from Sokka’s voice and he’d put the beard back on at some point. “It seems so… silly.”

“Don't think of it as a dance party, but as a cultural event celebrating the art of fancy footwork!” Aang replied, showing off his own fancy footwork as an example. He’d been almost gliding through the air the entire time since he’d gotten the go ahead for his party, his feet barely touching the ground as he jumped around the cave. Zuko wished that his energy was as infectious as it always seemed, but Zuko could barely do more than not frown as he lit the dozens and dozens of candles they’d scattered around the outer edges.

He’d asked Aang if he would help him since there were so many, but the airbender had turned shy and mumbled something about needing to help Toph before running off, leaving Zuko to do it himself. That was the only time he’d see Aang be anything less than full steam ahead in over an hour.

“They’re coming!” Toph suddenly shouted, pointing toward the entrance. “Everybody stop bending.”

Aang rushed over to Appa, trying to push his bison out of the back exit Toph had created earlier with pacifications about him missing out on the dancing. Zuko was pretty sure Appa would be just as happy to have a quiet night to himself without any yelling or sudden flying.

Once Appa was out of sight, Aang ran forward to begin greeting the kids that were now walking in and staring around in awe. They were all carrying what looked like instrument cases with them.

“You guys can set up right over here!” Aang told them enthusiastically. He gestured toward the rock podiums Toph had just finished raising toward the back.

The kids all spoke in whispered hushes, but Zuko caught more than one, “Wow.”

Zuko found a spot along the wall that didn’t have candles on it and took a seat, listening with more than one wince as they tuned their instruments. It just brought back memories of his mom and uncle taking him to a tsungi horn tutor as a child and how he’d been the opposite of gifted when he’d first started.

Eventually, they were all warmed up and whispered amongst themselves before starting to play a song. It didn't sounds nearly as bad as Zuko had been fearing. By that point, even more kids had wandered in, thanks to Katara’s directing at the mouth of the cave.

Aang hopped in front of the band like he was a performer and announced dramatically, “Ladies and gentlemen: the Flamey-O's!” He crossed his arms proudly and turned around to face the room at large. His smile dropped a little when he saw that nobody was moving. They all looked scared and a little worried, if Zuko was being honest.

“Now what do we do?” one of them asked softly.

“This is when you start dancing!” Aang proclaimed, his arms thrown out expectantly.

Another one of the kids seemed to shrink into the collar of his uniform. “I don't think my parents want me dancing in a cave…” 

“Yeah!” yet another added, his voice breaking nervously. “What if someone finds out?”

Zuko had known that there was a decent chance this would end disappointingly, but he still felt a little bad when Aang seemed to slouch a little, looking dejected.

“Oh boy,” he heard Aang mutter as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Listen guys, dancing isn't something you think about. It's a form of self-expression that no one can _ever_ take away from you.” 

Zuko wondered if that’s what life was like for the monks before Sozin had wiped them out; if  _ that’s _ why Aang was so passionate about this.

The first kid moved forward, seeming to be the speaker for the group once more. “Maybe it was different in the colonies, Kuzon, but we don't do that here.”

“Sure you do! You have for generations!” Aang exclaimed. He then turned to look at Zuko. “Come on, back me up on this Zu-”

Zuko’s heart felt like it had frozen in his chest as his eyes widened. What in _Agni’s name_ did Aang think he was doing? He had told him not  _ one _ day ago that he couldn’t use his real name!

Aang’s eyes widened too and Zuko knew he’d recognized his mistake. “-Lee,” he finished with barely a pause. Aang turned back to the group in front of him. “This is, uh, my big brother, Zu-Lee! But we just call him Lee,” he rushed to explain, before turning back to Zuko again. “He was named after our grandpa. He’s the one that taught us all the classic Fire Nation dances from a century ago, right Lee?”

Zuko honestly had no idea what dances Aang was talking about, but it looked like no one had caught Aang’s slip so he tried to relax a little. “Why don’t  _ you _ show them?” Zuko prompted sullenly. He wasn’t about to make a fool of himself just because Aang decided to put him on the spot.

Aang smiled again and turned around, moving low to the ground. “A hundred years ago, this was known as the 'Phoenix Flight'.”

“And,  _ this  _ was the 'Camelephant Strut'!” Aang jumped from side to side before tucking into a roll and popping up right in front of some of the students. The girls he’d come face to face with giggled and blushed as Aang flipped back and landed on his feet with a grace that Zuko had never seen in anyone but Ty Lee.

Aang continued flipping around and showing them different dancing styles until everyone was at least tapping their feet a little. Zuko lost sight of his friends in the suddenly moving mass and sighed, letting his head rest back against the wall.

“This is Lee!” Aang called out from close by, and Zuko straightened up again. Aang was holding the wrist of the first kid who had spoken and was currently pulling him over toward Zuko. The other boy looked a little flustered but followed easily.

“Lee, this is Shoji!” Aang introduced once they’d stopped in front of him. “He’s the one that invited me to play hide and explode yesterday!”

Shoji smiled shyly and bowed to him, so Zuko bowed back. It had been a long time since anyone had shown him this level of respect and deference, but he supposed that he was still technically this kid’s elder.

As they both straightened up, Zuko got his first good look at Shoji. His skin was a deep golden color, rather than the pale tone Zuko had grown up around deep within the capital. It wasn’t the gold of a tan from time in the sun either, but rather seemed like it was his natural skin tone. His hair, in contrast, was a far lighter brown than was typically seen on the islands closer to the one housing Royal Caldera City.

That could all be easily ignored, though. It was his eyes that truly did him in.

They were a deep olive green. Like Aang’s, they could pass for brown from a distance, but up close, Zuko could see that they were far closer to hazel.

He’d been the one that sounded defensive about how things were done in the colonies versus how they were done on the mainland. He’d also taken the initiative to include the supposed ‘colony kid’ on his first day.

Zuko would guess that either he or at least one of his parents had been born in the colonies before moving back.

Of all the people here, Shoji was the one most likely to know what life was like for villages in the Earth Kingdom. He could have seen or been told of the difference between what the Fire Nation told its people about their enemies and what they were actually like.

If there were more kids like Shoji at this school, so far out among the islands, Aang’s little dance plan might actually have a chance of working.

“Thank you for including him,” Zuko said quietly. 

Shoji smiled kindly. “He was really good at it!” he praised, causing Aang to smile proudly. Shoji’s eyes flicked briefly to Zuko’s scar, but he didn’t linger or say anything about it.

Another point toward having been born in the colonies; people in the Earth Kingdom were far more used to seeing burn scars adorning people’s skin.

“Don’t let me keep you,” Zuko said, crossing his arms. “Despite what Kuzon says, I’m not much for dancing.”

“Please?” Aang begged, his eyes going wide and pleading. Shoji seemed shier about it, but he also looked at Zuko with hope in his eyes.

Zuko just raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

Aang huffed, dropping the cute act defeatedly before smiling and pulling Shoji away again. Zuko’s lips were turned up as he watched them leave, Aang letting go of Shoji in the crowd and heading straight for Katara instead.

Most of the crowd was now repeating the shuffle Aang had claimed was from Ba Sing Se. Zuko hadn’t had, or even  _ wanted, _ the chance to see the ballrooms of the city while he was there, so it wouldn’t surprise him if Aang hadn't been entirely honest about the move’s origins, but he couldn’t say for sure either way. He had no way of knowing if Aang had actually showed them dances from Ba Sing Se and the Fire Nation.

That was something that had been bothering him for a while now. Aang had called this a cultural event, blabbered on about showing these kids a part of their heritage that they had apparently lost. Had his people truly lost a part of their culture?

Uncle had often talked about the importance of music while they were at sea. He’d instituted a music night weekly to keep morale up and often attempted to convince him to join in, but Zuko had been too wrapped up in his bitterness to take him up on the offer. Uncle had also been prone to humming a lot in their Ba Sing Se apartment, and he could faintly remember his mother singing gentle lullabies for him when he had been young.

Music had been a key part of his life, even if he hadn’t appreciated it, but he couldn’t remember a single time he’d seen anyone dance around him. It had happened once or twice in the streets of the Earth Kingdom, and the man that had forced Uncle to  _ dance  _ for his coin during those first few days on the run still made his blood boil when he thought about it, but Zuko had never seen anything like what Aang described.

Had his people really enjoyed dance moves like the Phoenix Flight a century ago, before they’d fallen into war? Was dancing something that was shared between all of the nations, or was it just an Aang thing that he’d taken with him when he traveled the world? Was the reason Zuko had never seen much dancing because it was strictly an Air Nomad custom that had been lost along with Aang’s people?

_ Everyone he loved was dead, _ Sokka had shouted at him. The Air Nomads had always seemed like such a foreign concept to Zuko, not living breathing people that had actually had loved ones, just like him. He’d felt a little uncomfortable whenever they were clinically discussed in his lessons, but it had never truly seemed like a reality to him. Even seeing the empty Air Temples in person a few years ago, they hadn't seemed like the kind of place where people had _lived._

Watching Aang dance now in the center of the room with Katara, he remembered something Uncle had told him once. He had seemed so sad while visiting home during his siege on Ba Sing Se, not long before he'd lost his son, and Zuko had asked him why he hadn't wanted to play to cheer himself up. “Fun is the first thing to die in a war,” he’d smiled bitterly, ruffling Zuko’s hair and urging him to go get ready for bed instead, immediately dismissing his words as nothing Zuko would have to worry about yet for years to come. Those years had been shorter than he thought his uncle had expected.

From what Sokka had told him, Aang had always been the one pushing them to make stops at meaningless places just because they had a cool animal or another interesting attraction. He had been so adamant about staying here just one or two more days, grinning when he got to play with others his age instead of worrying about an upcoming battle that would put the fate of the world squarely on his shoulders.

Fun was the first thing to die in war. 

Just like Aang’s culture had been.

And Zuko's own culture, apparently. He would guess that the last time anyone had whirled through a ‘traditional dance’ in his nation had been before Aang was born.

In those first few months chasing after him, he’d wonder why the Avatar was taking such a winding journey north rather than heading straight there and leaving Zuko in the dust. Much as he hated to admit it back then, he knew the only reason he’d been able to keep up with them was because of those pit stops. He’d thought that Aang was just trying to throw him off his trail by not taking a logical path, had congratulated himself for being able to track them regardless, but now he wondered if that had just been Aang desperately clinging to the last vestiges of his people’s way of life. 

Moving like the wind, sometimes lingering in one spot, but never taking root; always on the move, always having more to see, more to experience.

In front of him now, Aang caught Katara and lowered her into a dip, both of them smiling at each other and panting from the exertion. 

_ They refused to form any attachments, _ his tutors had spat. If that had been true of the Air Nomads at large, it certainly wasn’t for Aang. 

_ You didn’t have to see the way he sobbed over his guardian. _

Zuko remembered the way he’d broken down over Uncle’s prone form after Azula attacked him, when he’d thought he’d lost the one person that truly cared for him.

Maybe the Air Nomads hadn’t had families in the way that was understood by the rest of the nations, but that didn’t mean they didn’t love just as strongly.

Zuko watched Aang vacantly, wondering where he found the energy to keep smiling; to keep loving. 

While Zuko sat lost in thought, all of the kids suddenly stopped dancing.

“He's the one we want!” an unfamiliar voice called. “The boy with the headband!”

The music stopped and Zuko shot to his feet immediately, moving closer to the crowd and crouching down a little so that he wouldn’t stand out as much. A man stood with several guards and what looked like another student at the entrance to the cave. The guards ran into the group of kids and suddenly Aang was right next to Zuko. 

“Time to leave!” he whispered urgently.

“Looking for me?” he heard Shoji ask sweetly from somewhere in the crowd.

“That's not the one,” the man said irritably. “He's here somewhere. Don't let him leave the cave!”

As Sokka, Katara, and Toph appeared from out of the group of students, they all sneaked as quietly as they could toward the exit Aang had shoved Appa through earlier. Looked like he wouldn’t be getting a quiet night without flying them away from trouble after all.

A chorus of high pitched voices kept calling out short greetings and questions, and when Zuko glanced back, he saw that all of the students now had their sashes tied around their heads like Aang wore his and they had encircled the adults, drawing their attention fully.

Sokka and Toph sprinted ahead to get Appa ready, and Zuko couldn’t help but be thankful he’d already packed their things away, but he held back with Katara as Aang lagged behind them.

He felt a flash of impatience as Aang stopped and turned around again.

Shoji also turned around from where he stood at the back of the kids. He smiled at Aang and shot him a wink.

Aang bowed to him respectfully, a smile on his face as he turned back to Zuko and ran to the spot Katara had just vacated. She’d begun chasing after Sokka and Toph the second Aang had turned around.

Zuko was just about to follow her lead now that Aang was fully in the tunnel with them when Aang skidded to a brief stop, stone slamming closed behind them as the airbender slid one of his feet out in a move he knew Toph had taught him.

Kuzon was a colony kid from the Earth Kingdom. It wasn’t too much of a stretch for Shoji to believe that he was an earthbender, that one of his parents had passed it down to him and  _ that’s  _ why he was so odd. Shoji could have even seen things like that himself, or heard about them from his parents. There was a decent chance he wouldn’t rat Aang out after covering their escape, despite the shock that had been clear on his face for the split second Zuko had been able to see it.

Agni, Zuko was just glad Aang hadn’t used water or air instead.

Zuko and Aang ran to the exit, everyone else already seated in Appa’s saddle. Aang took a running leap to join them and left Zuko to climb up like a normal person.

As soon as he threw himself over the edge and fully into the saddle, Aang called out “Appa, yip yip!” and they were airborne once more.

Katara looked behind them before sighing lightly and turning back toward them, a smile on her face. “We're safe Sokka, you can take off the mustache now,” she teased. 

“Oh, no I can’t,” Sokka objected, back to his falsely pretentious voice. He turned away and began stroking the beard. “It's permanently glued to my skin.” Momo’s tail curled around Sokka’s now raised elbow from where the lemur sat perched on the front of the saddle.

“Way to go, dancy pants.,” Toph interjected happily. “I think you really  _ did  _ help those kids; you taught them to be free.”

That was a lesson she  _ and  _ Zuko had both had to learn recently. He felt the same pride for Aang that shone freely in her expression.

“I don't know,” Aang disagreed bashfully, rubbing the back of his head once again as he grinned. “It was just a dance party, that's all.”

“Well, that was some dance party Aang,” Katara said warmly. She crawled forward and placed a quick kiss on his cheek, causing him to blush and smile shyly. 

Zuko was happy for him. _Someone_ deserved to have a good night.

“Flamey-o sir,” Sokka clapped solemnly. “Flamey-o.”

Zuko smiled briefly at Aang when their eyes met, but he then turned away to look out at the clouds surrounding him. Sokka seemed less upset about the dance party now, and was even congratulating Aang for how well it went (by their standards, at least), but he couldn’t get over the multitude of arguments they’d had in the past day. Sokka hadn’t said anything about their relationship, but he didn’t know if the other boy would even be able to stand to see him come the morning. 

They’d both said a lot of things that they maybe shouldn’t have, but Zuko knew that it had mostly been him. He was jealous, he could admit that to himself, and he’d said things that he knew would hurt Sokka, invited every single argument and mutual avoidance they’d had between them over the course of the day; he was a horrible boyfriend and Sokka deserved better than him, even if \just _thinking_ that made Zuko feel like he was going to cry. He knew he wouldn’t blame Sokka if he wanted to end things between them.

He still hadn’t been able to figure out why Sokka had started things between them in the first place anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this chapter hurt me, how are the rest of y’all feeling tonight?
> 
> i feel like i probably should’ve warned you guys before now, but my writing policy is either “sweet and happy and nothing hurts” or “i will pull out literally all of the stops and make MYSELF cry” and there is absolutely no in between. unfortunately for the both of us, the longer a fic gets, the more i lean toward the second option and the more i will make it hurt
> 
> i really am sorry for making this chapter so angsty, but honestly? it had to happen sometime. these two have too much inner conflict and difference in viewpoint between them to smoothly fit together right off the bat, y’know? this is something they have to actually work for and they can’t have that unless they address all of the things that have being pushing them apart for the past two seasons. plus, lifelong prejudice and demonizing of an enemy group is a hell of a thing to try and get over completely overnight
> 
> also, on a lighter note, for zuko’s outfit, it’s basically just season 3 but not as nice and without all the gold stripes, which definitely make him stand out more. i figure he at least sort of thought ahead when he chose that outfit and it vaguely (?) matches up with what you see other fire nation people wearing in the background of the first half of the season as they’re travelling. 
> 
> also ALSO, sorry for all of the ty lee mentions, but i saw someone saying once that they thought ty lee might have been descended from an air nomad (similar facial structure to aang, eye color, choice in fighting style, hair color, that type of thing) and it honestly fit pretty well, so i’m having zuko notice a few of those things too. It may or may not come up again in the actual fic, but i thought it would be something fun to at least throw in there
> 
> and i swear, the whole fic won’t just be pain (sokka and zuko WILL be making up long before this fic is over, don’t worry) and zuko monologuing and being comforted by his friends, there will be other things too lmao. i just have to set up all of the topics that will expanded upon at different points in this fic, so they all kind of got lumped together in this episode (fun fact, this is one of my best friend’s favorite episodes, so uh… surprise bri? you’re welcome for making this so long, i think?)
> 
> the quote about fun being the first thing to die in war is from this tumblr post by the way (link below)! it’s an awesome read and i like the insight it brings up  
> https://avatarsymbolism.tumblr.com/post/180213561445/iwritevictuuri-heres-the-thing-about-the-air

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to leave a comment! i love hearing people's thoughts ♡♡


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